You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!
Seeing old high school friends you haven’t seen for decades.
So much has changed. Nothing has changed.
DATELINE: Carmel, California
I am in Carmel visiting family. I grew up in this exclusive beach city, where art galleries are more prominent than fire hydrants, where it was illegal to eat ice cream on the sidewalk, where Clint Eastwood was the mayor.
I went to high school here, like anyone goes to high school anywhere. I was a kid. I did what all kids do. I mostly dreamed of getting away from this prison by the sea.
I was young and dumb and full of crazy.
Then one day it was over. High School was in my rear view mirror and life was just over the front fender of my old pick up truck heading down the Pacific Coast Highway.
I Graduated before Luke Skywalker defeated the Empire.
I left this Ginger Bread house of a community by the Pacific, and never looked back.
I was young. There was plenty of time. Life was going to last forever. I’ll see those guys again. Why wouldn’t I?
Because when the winds of life blow across the playground of reality, the dry leaves scatter to the edges of infinity. Classmates moved and married and died and disappeared. Like leaves of autumn they scattered with the winds of time.
I missed my five year reunion. I missed the ten year reunion. I missed the 20 and 25.
Suddenly I was more than half way through life’s enigmatic journey. I wasn’t sure where I was headed, and for some reason, I was longing to reconnect to where I had been.
Life has a way of sticking you at the fork in the road. I am at the life fork now and I decided to go back to Carmel to visit my family.
I’ve done this many times before, but unlike those times, I never tried to reconnect.
This time would be different.
While here, I went to visit one of my best buddies from high school.
Some of you know the story of Adam. I did a crazy story on him years ago, called the Pig Slayer.
Before the accident, Adam was a full contact karate fighter. He competed professionally and ran a successful karate studio.
Then, on a dark and foggy night, somewhere in the Highlands of Highway 1, between big sur and Carmel Valley, he drove his motorcycle into a family of jet black boar crossing the highway.
Adam’s bike went one way, while Adam went another. His head was bounced around inside his helmet like an old fashioned game of Pong.
Adam was on life support for weeks and was suppose to die a couple of times. But Adam was a fighter in life and his will forced him to wake up and live.
Now he is living in a new home, retrofitted for his wheel chair. He still can’t walk, and his speech is somewhat slurred, but underneath, the old Adam is in this body fighting to get out.
For some reason the idea of a make shift reunion caught my fancy. I thought it would be good for Adam, I thought it would be good for me.
So much time had passed. There is only so much time left.
Coincidentally, I just saw the Social Network, about the creation of Facebook.
The movie is well acted and cinematically executed. It really does make you realize that Facebook was the “next big thing”
It is to computers what the light bulb was to darkness.
My 11 year old communicates on this social network. My 70 year old parents stay linked to their grand kids through this spider web of information over load.
For the younger crowd, the telephone is irrelevant. Facebook is their drug.
It’s hold on the world knows no borders, no time zones, no languages, no age requirements.
All you need is a computer and a pulse and you can ask what half a billion people have all ready asked:
WILL YOU BE MY FACEBOOK FRIEND?
The only thing that 500 million people on Earth have in common beside Facebook is oxygen.
So I went on Facebook and looked at who I might know from my old class.
And the names started to surface in my mind like motor oil on a black top after a fresh rain.
I started to reach out to these people that I haven’t seen in 30 years.
Would they remember me? Would they even respond?
My message was simple.
Coming into town. Thought it would be fun to assemble some of the old gang at Adam’s new house. Throw back a few beverages and tell a few stories. Let me know if you are interested
When I graduated from H.S., inviting all these people to anything would have taken gargantuan effort. Phone books, phone numbers, information directories, dialing, calling, talking, leaving messages, missing messages. That’s probably why I never tried in 25 years.
By the time you would have invited 10 people you would be exhausted or dead or both.
Facebook is amazing. It’s like the bike you wanted on Christmas morning. All you have to do is ask Santa Claus and bam, wait for Christmas morning and there it is. Like Magic.
Facebook is like magic. And you don’t have to wait till Christmas morning. It is instantaneous social gratification.
Suddenly the return replies began coming.
“That’s be great”
“Count me in”
“Can’t wait to see you”
I started to wonder, how has everyone changed?
Who has kids and who went bald. Who is divorced and whose gut is bouncing over their belt.
Facebook is another great way to investigate your past.
CLICK
The girl you always loved in high school. There she is. One click. One moment. So much knowledge.
It’s like the McDonalds drive thru of information.
You can see what she looks like now. You know her likes and dislikes. You know if she is married, single, or something in between.
In the old days you would have to stand outside this girl’s window like a peeping tom to learn half this much. Now you can sit in the darkness of your own existence and let Facebook users reveal themselves to you.
I’m going to this Facebook reunion tonight. If not for Facebook it is unlikely it would have occurred. If not for Facebook it’s unlikely I would know the slightest thing about the people I matriculated with 4 decades ago. Thanks to Facebook I can almost hit the ground running.
After a beer and a quick memory recall, I’ll be able to ask an old classmate about their son in Afghanistan and why he likes riding Harleys.
Facebook won’t replace socialization, but in this case, it certainly helped me vacuum the cob webs out of my memory.
And that is crazy.