Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Little things
The holidays are often a time of reflection. Thankfully, you can find the answers to life's troubling questions in the damnedest places.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Reunions
Reunion (courtesy of Dictionary.com):
–noun
1. the act of uniting again.
2. the state of being united again.
3. a gathering of relatives, friends, or associates at regular intervals or after separation: a family reunion.
I am always fascinated with words like this that are co-opted to mean something clearly related to the original meaning, but also clearly a reduction, such that the actual meaning is lost. In this case, I would say that it's "uniting" that is the problem. Does this just mean getting together in the same place at the same time, literally occupying adjacent space? I hope not.
Reunions are somewhat bizarre. For example, whether it is the large, controlled-environment reintroduction of a high-school or college reunion, or the simple reconnection of old friends, these are rare opportunities where one can straddle time and live in two moments simultaneously. Nothing and everything have changed.
The drive from Vermillion, South Dakota to Clinton, NY is not insignificant. To add insult to injury, the route is not necessarily a jewel of the interstate system. Still, it was going home. I was on my way to Hamilton College, where I and the rest of the Class of 2001 had graduated 10 years before. I realize that not many of my post-Hamilton friends comprehend the idea of a college reunion, but you must remember that our graduating class was smaller than freshman biology at many large universities.
I don't know about you, but I had some amazing friends in college. Unfortunately, I have become one of those friends that largely drops off the map for a while, popping up now and again on Facebook. I guess it was hard since I took a drastically different path and ended up on the other side of the country right out of school. Those are just excuses though, and the only way to change it it to change it myself.
At any rate, I was afforded 2 days with some of the old crew, and it was great. I think that the last time that I saw some of these guys was at Ted Stewart's bachelor party in Boston! And for some of the folks that I saw at the reunion, it was a full ten years! Everyone looked great, happy, and pursuing their dreams. I guess that is to be expected given the crowd, but it is always nice to hear it and see it firsthand.
Within moments of reuniting, we had assumed our personas from 10 years past (well a slightly larger, slower, less flexible, and follicly challenged manifestation thereof). I am not sure what the record time is for befouling a dormitory common room, but I am confident that we were at least competitive. The moment when I realized how quickly the room had become a sty was precisely when I thought about straddling time, existing in two spaces. It was refreshing - and we did do the right thing (props to Calvin for spear-heading this) and did the lion's share of the cleaning ourselves rather than leave it for someone else. That act alone is a sign that there is yet hope for us to grow up, perhaps by the 20th reunion we will have cleaned up our act, but I am not holding out hope.
As if that were not an amazing enough experience, I was fortunate to have another reunion of sorts immediately following the trip to Hamilton. Slowly, the pieces of team pace-cloud were reassembling for the tour through Virginia. Pepper and Bridget had agreed to route lead, and Tara decided that she would raise money and ride her home state of Virginia. I was stuck. How could I turn that down? I looked at my calendar and realized that although the Hamilton reunion would keep me from doing the beginning of the state (I have to say that I was ok with missing Afton Mountain), I could race to Virginia from New York and make it just in time to ride into Blacksburg with the team! Also, if I played my cards right, I could finish out the state of Virginia as well. I just couldn't pass up the chance, and I am ever so grateful that I decided to do it. As you can see from the photograph, our reunion was incomplete though. Miss Liza Starr decided that sweating away in some hut in Cambodia was better than sweating away in some tent in Virginia...wait, I think she might be right! Liza, no hard feelings, I wish you had been there, but if I were in your shoes, I would have done exactly as you had. Never pass up a chance for an adventure to somewhere you have never been, you will regret the lost chance.
Although I had to be less "flexible" to straddle the intervening year since I had ridden with Tara, Bridget, and Pepper than the ten years at my college reunion, it was no less rewarding. Here is the crux, what it means to be united. We slid immediately into our positions and our old life from the road the year before. I think it was a little bitter-sweet since Tara and I could not continue for the remainder of the trip, but "you can't go home again," I suppose.
I met my friend and now fellow BTUSFMS alum, Dan Nuckols, at a mutual friend's wedding. Dan had been in the van, speeding back from San Francisco. I could see it on his face, the loss, that nostalgic hollow face. We talked a lot about his trip, about the 2010 trip, and what it means to "go home again." A reunion juxtaposed with a separation. I would say to all of the finishers for this year, as they decompress, that though you may not be able to go home again, you can visit. Like I did in Virginia, in NY, in ND, as I will again whenever I can.
–noun
1. the act of uniting again.
2. the state of being united again.
3. a gathering of relatives, friends, or associates at regular intervals or after separation: a family reunion.
 |
| The last day of college, spring 2001 |
Reunions are somewhat bizarre. For example, whether it is the large, controlled-environment reintroduction of a high-school or college reunion, or the simple reconnection of old friends, these are rare opportunities where one can straddle time and live in two moments simultaneously. Nothing and everything have changed.
The drive from Vermillion, South Dakota to Clinton, NY is not insignificant. To add insult to injury, the route is not necessarily a jewel of the interstate system. Still, it was going home. I was on my way to Hamilton College, where I and the rest of the Class of 2001 had graduated 10 years before. I realize that not many of my post-Hamilton friends comprehend the idea of a college reunion, but you must remember that our graduating class was smaller than freshman biology at many large universities.
 |
| We like to make ourselves at home |
At any rate, I was afforded 2 days with some of the old crew, and it was great. I think that the last time that I saw some of these guys was at Ted Stewart's bachelor party in Boston! And for some of the folks that I saw at the reunion, it was a full ten years! Everyone looked great, happy, and pursuing their dreams. I guess that is to be expected given the crowd, but it is always nice to hear it and see it firsthand.
Within moments of reuniting, we had assumed our personas from 10 years past (well a slightly larger, slower, less flexible, and follicly challenged manifestation thereof). I am not sure what the record time is for befouling a dormitory common room, but I am confident that we were at least competitive. The moment when I realized how quickly the room had become a sty was precisely when I thought about straddling time, existing in two spaces. It was refreshing - and we did do the right thing (props to Calvin for spear-heading this) and did the lion's share of the cleaning ourselves rather than leave it for someone else. That act alone is a sign that there is yet hope for us to grow up, perhaps by the 20th reunion we will have cleaned up our act, but I am not holding out hope.
 |
| Team Pace-Cloud - partial reassembly |
Although I had to be less "flexible" to straddle the intervening year since I had ridden with Tara, Bridget, and Pepper than the ten years at my college reunion, it was no less rewarding. Here is the crux, what it means to be united. We slid immediately into our positions and our old life from the road the year before. I think it was a little bitter-sweet since Tara and I could not continue for the remainder of the trip, but "you can't go home again," I suppose.
I met my friend and now fellow BTUSFMS alum, Dan Nuckols, at a mutual friend's wedding. Dan had been in the van, speeding back from San Francisco. I could see it on his face, the loss, that nostalgic hollow face. We talked a lot about his trip, about the 2010 trip, and what it means to "go home again." A reunion juxtaposed with a separation. I would say to all of the finishers for this year, as they decompress, that though you may not be able to go home again, you can visit. Like I did in Virginia, in NY, in ND, as I will again whenever I can.
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