20 year grad reunion

Momentum is gathering now around the impending reunion of my Grade 12 graduation class of 1990. This will be 20 years, and I'd like to say it's gone fast, but it hasn't. Sure, it defies my ability to reason the sheer, impersonal, unstoppable movement of the man-made concept of time, but a lot has happened. The amount of experiences and moments that one can squeeze into 20 years is breath-taking. That being said, I'm terrified.

I took 2 years of typing in High School, and never once thought that they would aid me in writing. I love life for that - having skills and experiences from a past life that help obtain, and move in different directions. From the benign suggestion of Mr. Al Leinweber that I should be the Treasurer of the Student's Union, I basically made a entire life changing choice to enter Business School. The thought of making money, and playing with numbers, and computers gave me a sense of belonging I hadn't had. There was a knack for concepts of accounting, typing, computer science, and a bunch of other things that inadvertently led to a business matriculation award on the side of a GED. I don't even remember the particulars, just that I thought it was my place.

What I didn't know anything about though, was people. Businesses are made up of people - customers, trades, employees, bosses, chairpersons and contacts. It's a full time job shmoozing one's way through the corporate jungle, and a skill that never came easy to me. I was a cut and dried salesman, who thought that a good product would sell itself. I couldn't be further from the truth. What sells is a complex, difficult to determine and quantify relationship between the customer, and seller. If this is off a slight tinge, it could spell disaster. Some relationships begin easy, some take numerous attempts, and constant communication to keep going.

But before I get too far off track, I'm left wondering, who will we be at this reunion? The bulk of us will not have seen each other in 20 years, and have little idea what to expect. I'm certain some of us will not attend out of ambivalence, fear or downright hatred of anything to do with their high school. I don't blame them. It can be the hardest years of our lives, adjusting, competing, breaking away from the parents that loved and raised us, and moving out on our own. It's a difficult break in our lives, but one that was made a bit easier by our youth and enthusiasm. I would love for every single person from our class, and their families, to be there July 23rd, at Linda Hall.