Today I had a fun adventure. I was contacted by a familiar name from classmates.com. Now under normal circumstances a person would have an easy time remembering. But I’m not normal.
I attended three different high schools. With a dad in the Air Force, I attended the high school for “base” kids during my freshman year, the off base school during my sophomore year when dad was in Vietnam, and then we moved to Texas where I spent my last two years. I graduated and my parents moved again. Remind me of a name and I can remember faces and events but I have trouble figuring out which high school was the connector.
I pulled out my sophomore yearbook to browse the pages. I read through the autographs and photos, allowing them to provide clues to a dim memory of good stuff. I found this guy’s autograph and his message to me. Apparently he thought I was a cute gal. [grin]
And while I vaguely remember this young man (well, he’s no longer young as I’m no longer young), he has memories that I don’t recall. People’s names I don’t remember. Even looking up their faces in the yearbook, my memory is still not jogged to recollection.
And although its a bit alarming as I wonder if it’s a case of mistaken identity, I’ve enjoyed my trip down memory lane. The people I do recall. The faces. The activities. The friends who shaped me all contained within the weird yearbook littered with odd art that was considered atrocious even in the 70’s.
What a decade: the 70’s!