The Class of '97

Growing up, my dad liked to listen to a song called The Class of ’57. The whole song is a list of people who graduated in a particular class in 1957, and what they’re doing now. It’s a poignant song, because it’s a song about the almost inevitable choices and compromises that people in make in life, when their ideals sort of die for lack of inspiration, and when real life sets in.

Anyway, there’s a line in it: “things get complicated/when you get past 18.” Which my dad always sings whenever we have a discussion about post-high school decisions and problems.

But I’m not sure that things get complicated when you’re 19 as much as they get complicated when you get past twenty-two. Maybe back in ’57 life was complicated for 18 year olds, but now I think we’re still stuck in adolescence for a few more years. So I’ve been changing the lyrics to “things get complicated/when you get past twenty-two” (even though it screws with the rhythm), because I feel like that’s seemed particularly true lately. I’ve been hearing about depression and divorce and unplanned babies . . . serious things, sad things. And it all seems very complicated.

My ten-year-reunion will be this year, although I doubt anyone will plan it. I had a very small high school class, and while I don’t particularly want to make small talk with a bunch of people I haven’t seen in ten years, I’m seriously curious to know what happened to these people. How have they changed? Grown up? What kinds of complications have shaped them, and will I like some of them better as 27-year-olds than I did when we were all 17 or 18?

I may take over the planning just to alleviate my curiosity. And then I could write my own version of that song.