It was a vacation into memory, all us nice kids who studied Latin & shop, were cheerleaders & homeroom monitors, did synchronized swimming & played basketball, listened to our teachers, walked home in blizzards wearing nylons... A different time. Yet we were the same, except with better conversations, 50 years of thoughts & events to share. Tolerant, kind, interested. I went to a big cliché of an American high school, it turns out. I loved it then & I love that it's my past. I got to apologize to a boy I beat up in 4th grade. He didn't remember it, thank goodness, or else I gave him a brain injury. How many people were there that I've known since kindergarten? A good handful. I didn't take enough photos, for sure, but their faces are locked in my brain & heart. It doesn't mean anything to be there but it means a lot to have gone.