Has the Reunion Bug caught you yet? If you think you want to escape its clutches, think again. You don’t want to pass up this once-in-a-lifetime Tam High Class of ’61 40th Class Reunion. What’s the big deal, you ask? Maybe you just don’t know that Reunion Fever is unlike any other. For me, R.F. came on in a sudden email attack. It swooped into my computer, and then carried me back to a realm that existed only in the farthest recesses of my brain. It has caused dreams, flashbacks, and sudden smiles on my face as it has cast its spell. Now that I am firmly in its clutches, I’ve discovered:

A reunion is A TREASURE HUNT where we all become treasure seekers, mining the rich veins of our memories and rediscovering friendships from our youth. Thank you, Hans, Tom, and Sita for sending cyber my way! You confirm the truth of that song I learned as a kid: “Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other, gold.”

A reunion is a chance to experience THE CURVE OF TIME where back to the future blends with forward to the past. Reunion Fever teaches the timelessness of memory, where I find all that I have experienced still exists in my mental Now. It convinces those under its spell that the linear calendar is too one dimensional for our multi-dimensional minds.

A reunion is A STORYTELLER’S BONANZA. Are you one of those individuals who likes to tell stories about “the fish that got away”? We have a Master Storycaster who writes great “fish tales” that make up Tam Spam. Reunion Fever bends the straight rod of truth because those under its influence can reminisce about stories that are true, half true, or totally untrue—and no one can tell the difference.

A reunion is A DELAYED ADOLESCENT “BURP”. Like a bubble from a meal digested 40 years ago, Reunion Fever brings up high school images that are delicious, surprising, funny, outrageous. I’m ready to attest that my children aren’t the only ones who experienced the effervescence of adolescence…and judging by cybermail and myself, it didn’t end for all of us at adolescence!

A reunion is A PLASTIC SURGEON’S GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY. In a cold sweat from The Fever, I have wondered how to erase the revealing signs of the passage of time. Will it be nip, tuck, suck, or enhance? And my conclusion? “I’ve earned these wrinkles and this baggage, baby!”

A reunion is A FRIENDSHIP FEST. For most fevers, two aspirin will ease the malady. But I’ve found there is only one way to cure R.F. Get on line and take time for your old friends from high school. I have heard from friends I lost as soon as I graduated. Now I realize they were never really gone. I can’t wait ‘til October to get beyond the writing and hear firsthand every one’s take on 40 years of living.

A reunion is A CHANCE TO PARTY, PARTY, PARTY because life ain’t over “til the Fat Lady sings”, and if you’re reading this, you haven’t heard her yet! Actually the party has already started…thanks to the Internet and the pre-planning meetings. Now I am wondering, does the 2 A.M. Club really close at 2 A.M.? The last time I was up that late I was waiting for my adolescent boys to come home for curfew. I think I had better tell my husband we need to start training soon for October’s night club bash!

A reunion is A RECKONING on the Compass of Life. It has given me a chance to look at the points I have passed through on my own personal trek. I know where my True North lies, thanks to trial and error over the years. Now I’m using the reunion to help me plot the trail, at least ‘til October…although life has taught me that sometimes the best laid plans go down the drain! (Is there any one among us who hasn’t learned that yet???)

There is something breathtaking as I look at the expanse of lifescape I have traveled, and I wonder what is around the next bend. Once the 40th is over, I wonder if I will be here for the 50th So I, for one, am glad to have Reunion Fever. It’s fun, it’s surprising, and I know it only lasts for a little while. Are you going to run and hide? Or get out your Bug Catcher?

I can’t wait to see all of you Oct. 27!

Winnie W.G.