September 10, 2004

My Ultimate Nightmare Event. Snake-handling festival? Jazz marathon? Six hours on one of those amusement park rides with chairs swinging around at the end of long chains, round and around, until I get really dizzy and scream for my dad to let me off the ride but he things I'm happy so he and the operator just smile and wave back? Nope.

Those of you who know me personally will know that while I may have one or two decent qualities, a good memory is not among them. Names, faces, dates, name it, I can't. Which is why tomorrow night's Class of 1989 reunion for the now-defunct (it and cross-town Cedar Ridge were merged to form the two-campus Old Bridge High School) Madison Central High School fills me with such dread.

A high school reunion is pretty much about nothing but memory, so it's like an acrophobic going skydiving. I even tried to find my yearbook so I could do a little last-minute cramming, but I think it's in my parents' attic, dammit. I was even thinking of skipping out on it, but Anthony Russo (who actually gave me the original Illuminated Donkey about ten years ago) has cajoled me into attending, and has said I could stay close to him throughout the night so he could feed me names and events. Wish me luck.
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