Online Class Reunion

I love the internet. Not just for the porn, either. I love it because I have re-connected with so many old friends lately via email, myspace, and my blog. I have always had the good fortune of making friends easily. Let's face it: women want to be with me- men want to be me. Kinda like Tom Selleck or James Garner. (That's for you, Briscoe.) I digress. Anyway, I just think it's cool that technology has given us the opportunity to stay in touch. In a way, this is even better than a class reunion. Let's face it: class reunions are awkward. We're forced to remember the names of people we haven't seen or thought of in years. We have to put on a happy face to make people think our lives are perfect. And after a full evening of checking our watches every five minutes, we eventually say our good-byes thanking God Almighty that it will be another ten years before we have to do it all over again.

Not so with the internet. We can email each other whenever we want. We only have to talk to the people we really wish to. We can be crude. We don't have to get dressed up. We can just be ourselves. And, a has-been class-clown can bombard all of you with constant reminders to read his blog in a desperate plea for attention, 18 years after the glory days officially ended. And you'll click the link to that blog because you know that the knucklehead sending you all those messages will still say or do almost anything in order to get a reaction from his friends even after all these years. Be it inspirational or pathetic, that's just how I roll, homies.

So, let's all stay in touch. Feel free to post comments on my blog. Steal email addresses of old friends when people like me send out mass emails. Drop those folks a line once in a while. We can start our own "Class of '90 Online Reunion". (We won't discriminate if you weren't in the Hannibal High School Class of 1990, but don't be surprised if all of the sudden you get a bone-rattling slap on the thigh followed by the immortal words Dave Arthaud spoke as an outsider enjoyed an inside joke a little too much, "What are you laughin' at? You ain't one of us!")