High School was only cool if the Ramones were in a movie about it

I went to a social gathering this weekend.

It was a nice little hullabaloo.

While I was there, I ran across this one dude, he was my age, I think he may have gone to high school with me, I’m not really sure. The topic of high school came up and our ages in our quick convo and we both remarked at how our 2o year reunion was coming up. The thing he said to me was “I think the 20 year one is one I would actually go to, because I think we have all matured enough to not be jerks anymore.” I assured him I was not that optimistic and also pretty much still a jerk, we both laughed and that was the end of it.

The conversation left me with a lingering taste though. It tasted “not good”.

I didn’t like high school. At All. It’s a part of my life I try not to remember much. The social awkwardness, the unhearable cliquish- ness of everything around me. The dictatorship of the powers that be, and being an adult now, and having friends that are teachers, I can only confirm what I thought back then. The administrators didn’t know jack shit.

No… I did not like high school at all.

It was a piece of paper I needed. It was a piece of paper I got. I didn’t care for the mascot, the god awful marching band, the athletic teams, any of it. I was content to find the music I wanted, and be left alone, but there was no way of that happening.

I remember being put into in school suspension for trivial reasons, and constantly being patted down and searched by drug dogs. I remember teachers who didn’t care to teach, only about standardized testing. I remember being forced to go to mandatory pep rallys because our football team had to look good for the local paper and tv station.

I remember my hatred of “the man” and not having a good reason told to me why I had to take my piercings out, or couldnt have a wild color hair cut, or why I couldn’t wear a pocket watch to school. I just remember things didn’t make sense. I remember being shut out journalistically so I had to make my own zine. I remember I hated not having anything to do, so we started our own band. It was that place and my contempt for it that never made me want to be passive again.

When I walked that stage, I got that piece of paper and vowed never to return to those walls for any reason. I have stayed true to that. To this day the school colors make me turn into a bile throat launcher and the school song medley makes me think of doing horrible things as they raise their arms locked in solidarity. I am glad my Alma Mater no longer exists, that it has become the  pawn of local politics. I would have rather it burned to the ground but at least I no longer have to see it’s stupid mascot on tshirts all muscle bound like something out of a 90s “extreme” corn chips ad.

I didn’t go to any of the reunions. My poor friend Megan works hard to try to get me to go too. She actually helps organize them. She even went so far as to try to book my band to play so I could be forced to go, but luckily for me, the band was on tour.

And that’s the point. I DID NOT peak in high school. My best years are ahead of me. Look at me. I am not a wage slave. I am a free man. I do what and when I want. I am punk rock, indie rock, and rock rock all in one. I do more in a month that some do all year, and I have never been better for it. So the answer (or question) is, why would I go to a reunion of people who mutually didn’t like me in the first place?

Maybe just to rub in how good looking I still am.