Yesterday I received a CD with a bunch of photos from high school. My favorite is the one above. It’s from the summer of 1990, and the guys pictured were pretty much the cool fellas in school.
And, ahem, they’re wearing neon shorts.
I’m not writing this to make fun of anyoneâ€”a handful of the boys were pretty good friends of mine. But it’s truly funny how, over time, the very meaning and perception of “cool” changes with such dramatic impact. Walk onto any beach in 2010 wearing this sort of garb, you’re either ruthlessly mocked or assumed to be blind.
But 1990 was weird.
By the way, my 20-year high school reunion is a month away, and I’m increasingly psyched. As I tell any old classmates who’ll listen to my blatherings, it’s not about cliques or cool or geeky or … well, anything pertaining to the year 1990. It’s about the circus/reality TV element of it allâ€”stick 200 people who haven’t seen each other in 20 years in a big ol’ ballroom, stir in mucho booze and see what happens …