paintedlines

The fog or years past

I'm never sure if its by choice or nature, but when in a group of people I become the silent member. The observer. Some have accused me of not really paying attention because I rarely interject into the conversation. So it may see that I have drifted off, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. I absorb everything - almost taking on the task of mental stenographer of that given moment. I sat there, nursing a Sprite, in the smoking section of Fridays - full on "observer." My inner sociologist had taking over, and I can help but get the feeling that I'm a fly on the wall watching creatures in there natural habitat. The only thing missing was a notebook ands micro-tape recorder! The first topic of conversation that night was high school. An experience we all share not just in time, but in place - as we all in some form or another walked (and/or rolled) the halls of TJ - Thomas Jefferson High School, of the West Jefferson Hills School District ... apparently the administration wanted a large letter head. They bantered back and forth about those times, teachers and things that happened in class and behind the backs of the aforementioned teachers. As I took it all in - it hit me. Even if I wanted to contribute in some way to the conversation that was unfolding in front of me, I'd be hard-pressed to do so. And it wasn't due to lack of will. Being fully aware of my habit of slipping into a secondary role, I am capable of breaking out of it. No, it was a lack of memory, a lack of recall. I could not pull together one anecdote! What the hell! Am I really that freak'n odd? It actually bothers me, not much, but enough to write about it. We were all at TJ at the same time and yet in that moment, sitting it there, I felt as if I had nothing in common with them.The conversation went beyond actions and events to the discussion of people and names. Once again I was at a loss. I know these names, they at one point belonged to people that sat around me or that of those I passed in the halls. But I have no connection to the actual people, their physical form, faces or personalities. It was like a verbal movie credit reel - stark black and white. Maybe in the end its all about point of view. Then again I may just be that odd. I do remember high school. I would need major brain damage to completely lose four years on my life. But there is nothing cohesive about these fragments of time. Nothing that as a whole conveys: "Yes - that was TJ!" Homeroom, with Vicky sitting behind me, Ms. Fortino, and the parade of homeroom teachers. Using the system to get friends out of class with me - Tim currently holds the record for time spent holding other peoples book bags. Getting out of school for Academic League, it was a lot more fun than it sounds. But I see all of that as generalities. Things that happened but blend together. Solid memories or events are hard to come by. And if they do come to the surface, they are mostly singular things that only apply to me – nothing even close to a group experience. And nothing I could share that night. In a way looking back, while I did have friends, high school seems like a mono-experience. I was different than the norm then, and I really didn't try to fit in so that probably contributed it to how I took on that time in my life. I guess I interacted with life only enough to get through it all on a day by day basis. It wasn't all bad, I made it through eventually. On some level I think it just might be nice to look back and be able to smile and laugh a little more than I can. I still really don't have an answer, then again I'm not sure what the question is. But in that moment I felt so disconnected from a time and place that is so familiar it could almost be home. I don't like the idea of regret, and the idea of reliving those times doesn't really make my short list of things to do. But in passing I wonder, if I can't really relate - what did I miss? Am I really that odd? Does it really matter?