Redartz: As Summer begins, schools are closing; just has they have since we attended those crowded halls of learning. One of the most anticipated parts of the end of the school year was the distribution of yearbooks. Usually accompanied by a vigorous round of mutual book signing, reminiscing and sharing of summer plans.
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Shift to the present: looking at these bound volume time capsules now can be an exercise in both nostalgia and cringing embarrassment. As a youth I used to look through my parents' yearbooks and was amused at the photos, certain that my memories would never be so...quaint. Time got the last laugh, though. My yearbooks now contain ample evidence of the cultural and fashionistic excesses of the Bronze age. Along with quite a few handwritten messages from friends, acquaintances, old girlfriends and teachers, with all the accompanying emotional detritus. For the most part, these volumes sit collecting dust on my shelves, forgotten. But every once in a while, I'll pull one out for a laugh and bit of remembrance.
Thus, for our discussions this week, what are your thoughts about yearbooks, the process of reminiscence, and the end of school in general? Do you have any amusing tales of pranks, parties, or partings? Did you keep your yearbooks ( and in the case of your parents, did they keep all your school pictures- mine presented me with a whole manila envelope some years ago, containing twelve years' worth of uncomfortable portraits)? And just to show you that I'm devoted to journalistic integrity and full disclosure (not to mention possessing no sense of personal dignity), I leave you with one of those school photos of early Bronze age Redartz, I'll probably regret this...
