This weekend I will be missing my high school reunion.
There in the brisk, rarefied air of Colorado, my former classmates will come together on the site where we once ruled the world. All weekend—especially late into Saturday night—my friends will reminisce about those Camelot years, that special time we now call “the good old days.”
I wish I could be there for three reasons. First, I really like the people I went to high school with. Second, I would find it reinvigorating to relive those special days that were filled with so much fun. Finally, I feel a need to defend my reputation when Kenny, the quintessential storyteller, regales our alumni group with wild stories that are always embellished and often fabricated.
Yes, those were the good old days, and they were good for the following reasons:
My selective memory
I am certain those high school days were not as wonderful as they now appear when relived through filtered memories and creative storytelling. Having a selective memory helps me to forget the bad and focus on the good. I prefer it that way.
To make today one of tomorrow’s “good old days” I will deliberately focus on the positive and minimize thinking about whatever might be lurking in the dark, sinister shadows.