awareness, Health, High school, high school reunions, Los Angeles, midlife, Observations, Relationships
Last year I went to one of my high school reunions. I was forced by some friends after saying no several times. Ignoring my wishes one friend bought the ticket for me, so I caved in. I wasn’t dreading the evening because I was still in competition with distant school enemies, I was dreading it because I dread most social occasions. People say I’m the life of the party (okay not everyone), they say I’m fun, I’m funny and well, thats true. But that nuttiness simply covers the terrified, anti-social artist. Cliche but also true.
Most people had no idea who I was, so within the first half hour I went to work on those poor, clueless souls. My class was 50/50 in color, race, sexuality etc. Although nobody was allowed out of the closet then…and trust me it wasn’t that long ago.
I was the whitest human on the dance floor and I danced that way, made a complete ass out of myself and had a blast. Anybody standing next to me while socializing was introduced as my wife, husband, life partner, etc. It didn’t make a difference what color, sexuality, marital status – I was their partner. This got many laughs and quite a few frozen stares. I simply didn’t care. (By the way I DO know how to conduct myself at church and other more solemn functions and I am never rude.)
Today many unsuspecting innocent’s believe I am gay, straight, single, married, a swinger, a nun, a cancer doctor, a CIA agent, a mother, an actor, an actress, homeless, prostitute…and at least one person who actually knew me thought I was hysterically funny. Tell people you are an artist who takes care of a parent and eyes glaze over. So I took (and wore) other peoples name tags be they black, white, male or female.
By the end of the night (for me) a friend had spilled red wine on my new white ensemble (we were requested to wear white – not sure why but it looked good on everyone that followed along.) At the moment of spillage I new it was time to leave the ball. Exhausted, I went home.
The following week a very nice (interracial) couple from the reunion who seemed extremely polite and conservative, asked me to be part of a three-way. (I declined) Yes, its my own fault for being so much fun! Must have been my dance moves…
And yes folks, this may be why my relationships do not work out – I’m far more sophisticated in my intellect, humor and my conduct, eons above most. If you can not let loose and dance you have no business hanging out with me. I’m not a snob, nor am I mean. But when I socialize I either want to have a sincere conversation with someone which expands my withering brain or I want to have fun. Some scorned crush from the 9th grade or some miserable bitch from 12th in a golden cage asking me why I’m not married is a waste of my time and just plain moronic. I want more from life, always have…and it gets me into a lot of trouble.
I’m an insanely loyal friend and lover – like a Rottweiler. But I will say this, I have never, ever been able to stand the company of phonies…for long.
Oh and by the way, artists have a keen way of sniffing you out. That is why society gets so mad at us.
Hello Walter. Had a blast reading this. Really wish I was there. I think I’ve forgotten how to have fun. Friendship and loyalty still rank high with me but I just don’t seem to have the time. Or is it just that I tend to be too intellectual. I’ve had many complain that I overanalyze whatever I hear. I’m tempted to say we should hang out one of these days but I’m so far away it’s unlikely to happen, at least anytime soon. Anyway, this is me saying hi. Ciao!
Hello Traveler and thank you. We are friends on whatever this WP plane is, we question the question. Hold your head up high and dance alone if you must. I do…which is why my dogs think I’m nuts.
H. rose said:
Haha! I dance alone while cleaning the house. Great job Walter. This was a great post! It makes you even more intriguing!
ah… Walter, you made me laugh… thanks
I was invited to my 40th prep school reunion a while back… I declined despite much pleading by my former classmates… later I received copious emails w/ photos from the event and all I could think was, “Who are all these fat old, wrinkly, bald white guys?”
My bathroom mirror must be very forgiving…
You are ageless! In my mind anyway..