Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Maybe if they were holding the reunion at 'Ducci's

It’s nice having a job you like that makes you happy. When I come home now I feel things, emotional things, things other than “enraged” and “drunk”. It’s a nice change.

Speaking of drunk and ragey at places I used to work, I got a booklet for my ten year college reunion weekend today.

It opens with a photo of the new Alumni house, which my friends and I used to refer to as the Playmobil house when we were students.

It’s a great house, but it looks pretty plastic.

The next page is a welcome from the Alumni Association President. I don’t know him, but he wants me to reflect on what was special about my undergraduate experience. That’s a great idea, but I don’t think that bar is open any more.

There is absolutely nothing on the first page of the program that interests me. It lists a golf tournament (I don’t golf), a boat cruise (I don’t boat), a bunch of dinners for classes other than my own, and a happy hour for the class of 1992, which isn’t my year. I guess they figure 1992 is the only year young enough to still be interested in visiting a bar rather than munching on clams casino or the vegetable and cheese mirror at the country club.

Side note: Mirror? Does that mean it’s served on a mirror, or that there are two platters that mirror each other, or is it served in front of a mirror, or what? None of my cookbooks list a vegetable or a cheese mirror.

Saturday offers a lot of breakfasts and some amusing tours. First off there’s an open house in one of the buildings that was closed for renovation during the entire four years that I went to school there. No one from my class, unless they came back after graduation like I did, remembers this building as anything other than a fenced off darkened ruin. There’s a library tour, too. My senior year I knew a senior physical education major who had never been in the library in his entire college career. While his second senior year, after we graduated, was probably of great benefit to him, a tour of the library while he was still a student rather than an alumnus might also have been helpful.

In the same vein, the guided campus tour fills me with glee. When I came to campus, I was given a map and a schedule, not a tour, but now that I’m an alumnus and already spent four years and four summers figuring out where the building are, I can preregister for a campus tour. I guess my degree really has gotten me something. The day continues with luncheons, more tours, and then the weekend wraps up with farewell breakfasts.

Flipping through it, the one thing that really stands out to me other than the opportunities for scorn is that there is not a single event geared toward, sponsored by, or even named after my class. The classes of ’62, ’72, ’77, ’67, ’87, and ’92 all have at least one thing to do. The class of 1997 has a class picture at eight at night on Saturday.

Screw you, alumni weekend. I’ll think about showing up when someone bothers to make it look like they actually want my class there.

1 comment:

Donna said...

That means no one from your class volunteered to be on the committee. Last year I was "voluntereed" and so I helped send out emails and stuff to my class, and then I didn't even go. ha! Only 10-15 people from '96 actually showed.