The following Facebook post, written prior to the SHS class of ’79 reunion on Sept. 14, is reprinted at the writer’s request.

I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to say this because I want it to be constructive and not sound like criticism.

I’ve been part of my class reunion planning, albeit doing much less than everybody else.

The meetings/dinners have been fun, hanging out with people that I really didn’t know in high school (and in one case with someone I actively disliked). I’ve been to other reunions and it’s great that people have changed for the better.

Some people we’ve contacted about the reunion do not want to have anything to do with people from Scarsdale because it’s tough being a teenager and many people do not have positive memories from high school.

I imagine it’s not easy to come to [the class page] on Facebook and see all the photos of other people having fun in high school, dressed up with their prom dates, etc.  

Nobody posts photos of the horrible parts of their high school experience on Facebook. There are no photos of anyone crying in the corner.

I didn’t go to the prom.

I have had tons of fun at every reunion I’ve been to.

If you’re reading this but thinking, “There’s no frigging way I would ever socialize with those people” please keep reading.

I had friends in high school. Not one was a cheerleader or on a team except maybe the chess team. I’ve been in touch with many of them but not one is coming to the reunion. (And it’s too bad, because last week I had lunch with Dan Shatz when he was in New York and he has a freaking interesting legal career, doing death penalty appeals in North Carolina.)

I’m still going (to the reunion, not to death row). Why? Because the kids who wouldn’t have talked to me in high school are no longer kids. They’ve grown up. They’re fun to hang around with. Some of them have interesting lives, interesting stories. Some don’t, but they want to hear about your life and your stories.

Not everybody in the class is an award-winning writer, built a restaurant empire, starred on Broadway or got super-rich in tech. That level of success is maybe 10 of us (and trust me, they’re no happier than you are). Maybe another 50 are doctors or law partners or tenured professors or doing well on Wall Street. The rest of us have jobs and tuition bills and don’t have walk-in closets, wine cellars, swimming pools, personal stylists or Tom Hanks’ cell phone number.

And that’s fine. I remember a long time ago talking to Jeff Zacharia, hearing about wine-tasting trips through France. I was fascinated, and that was back before I drank wine.

I have an interesting career now — hey, I get paid to make fun of Scarsdale and my former employer — but 15 years ago I was just another SHS graduate working in finance; nothing interesting then. So what? I still had fun at reunions.

I hope you’ll come to this one [on Sept. 14]. It’s been 40 years — we’re more than three times older than we were back then, and three times more mature. Which I make up for by having only a third of the hair I had back then. And I’m OK with that.

I don’t have kids or a spouse and I’m not rich but I just learned to fly a seaplane. Want to know what that’s like? Ask me.



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