Did I really write that sentence? It sure doesn’t exactly seem like twenty years since 425 Wampus Cats navigated our way through the confusing pods and an outdated hallway system to class, lunch, restrooms, and wherever else was convenient for that moment, but it has been that long – and that was further defined when I decided to try on my letterman jacket. It fits, but don’t ask me to button it up. The vinyl sleeves are sticky from years of hanging up in my childhood bedroom’s closet without consistent wear and I won’t go into detail about the trumpet that hasn’t seen the light of day since 1999! I think the yearbooks and stuff are somewhere in a storage facility across town only because I haven’t had any desire to load up any more boxes and bring home to Bryant; however, there is a futon that needs some serious love which I will gladly part with [Email me for details].
Like some of those 425 Wampus Cats who matriculated in 1997, I had conflicting feelings of if I wanted to come back. Would past hijinks be laughed at briefly and left in the past, or would someone try to lord some misdeed/inaction/fashion mistake over my head two decades later? What would those treasured friendships look like in our late thirties? Is this simply a money grab that on the outside exposes a haves-vs-have-nots culture despite most of us being at least cordial in real life? I had to show up to find out.
What I saw were roughly 140 friends [Regina has the exact number] of varying walks making a pilgrimage to the town we once ran as high school seniors many of whom were doing well and maintaining good health. Of course, we lost some soldiers along the way *pours St. Ides Special Brews on the grass* and a couple of us ended up doing a little more than an overnighter in the drunk tank, but by and large we are still together; Facebook really helps holding onto those ties of playing basketball everywhere, DBS functions, those first jobs, sitting in Ms. Snead’s World History class trying not to gouge our eyes out, extracurriculars, Kappa League, and whatever happened at Lollie Bottoms or Gold Lake most Friday and Saturday nights.
I wish more of our classmates would’ve come out and squashed the perceived beefs for no other reason than to acknowledge how short and precious life really is. I understand why some people didn’t make it; life happens whether it be distance, apathy, indifference, illness, or anything else – I ain’t mad at ‘cha, to quote 2Pac. If I could get over the labels some of y’all gave me and the chortles when girls turned down my date requests, then it isn’t that hard to move on. As for the latter, there were some people whom I won’t mention yet didn’t want to see disowned and perhaps, being friend-zoned was good enough for me.
I'm pretty sure I did. pic.twitter.com/e1Cx9XkrJU— Mister B.I.E. (@cedteaches) October 28, 2017
Beyond the obvious of seeing people, coming home also meant noticing changes to the city: For example, Salem Road now travels north-south from Friendship Road to that new Lindsey Management-owned apartment complex at the end of South Salem Road past Southwind. Living in (or visiting Conway) also includes navigating roundabouts almost everywhere in lieu of stoplights clogging up the thoroughfares. With a second hospital, and more tech, oil, and retail opportunities than a little bit, it’s safe to say the hometown has grown into a nice city. We’ve come a long way from being newly minted drivers cruising on Front Street each Friday night and seeing the bootlegger for an overpriced fifth of Seagram’s gin.
All in all, it was a grand time indeed. Without the massive organization, we ought to do this again sometime soon – as an impromptu pop-up in some park or an open field akin to our partying days. I truly had a blast with everyone and my significantly better half got to see [and hear] the absurdly true stories of my life corroborated. Thanks to everyone who did come through, and for those who made it to the epic playdate at Laurel Park, I wish I could’ve made it but I had family obligations.
And I'm gonna miss everybody— Mister B.I.E. (@cedteaches) October 27, 2017
And I'm gonna miss everybody when I'm gone
And I'm gonna miss everybody #CHS97Reunion #bone #crossroads
If I never tell you again, thanks for reading AD&AD and my random thoughts in addition to the Dad Chronicles over the past five years.
I’ll see you at the crossroads.