As an Old Geezer Without A Life, I enjoy getting to surf around to various high school alumni websites, where you're supposed to sign up, enter your e-mail address and some info about what a mess you've made of your life, and, in theory, be deluged by messages from old classmates, all eager to renew acquaintances/friendships/romances.

Of course, I nearly never get mail from any of those old alumni--no surprise, because I've only rarely sent e-mail to anyone on those lists either, and when I have, I usually regret it afterwards. Who wants to learn that your former best friend has become a raving crackhead, or that your ex-girlfriend (and her insanely-jealous husband) hates your guts for imagined slights, or even that the class beauty is still just as shallow as she ever was? Hell, more than likely, they don't want to see what a pushead you've turned out to be, either...

But hope springs eternal, and after finding a new name on those lists, it seems to take a herculean effort on my part to keep from sending them e-mail. But when the temptation seems too great, I just have to remember three little episodes...

1. Sending a note to the lovely and talented Karen, who I admired from afar in all of our classes, and receiving a reply stating that she always thought I was creepy and she didn't want to hear from me again...

2. Sending a note to Alan, who I was friends with from fourth grade to graduation, and receiving a reply stating that he couldn't correspond with me unless I promised to become a Born Again Christian...

3. Sending a note to Charlotte, my date to the junior prom, and receiving a reply stating that she really wasn't sure she could remember who I was...


After remembering those moments of horror and humiliation (God, it's like high school never ended, ain't it?), it becomes much easier to resist the temptation to write.

And then I disconnect the keyboard, just to make sure...

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