n the ongoing saga
of art (more specifically, TV) imitating life (more specifically, my life)….
I think Ed Stevens is really me. I’ve written previously about
the show “Ed” – or at least I think I have – the last couple of months
are kind of fuzzy. Anyway, the main plot of going back to his hometown
is the same (although the exact circumstances are very different).
On last night’s episode, he was fighting with an appliance store that didn’t
deliver his refrigerator on time. Good ol’ Sears stiffed us the same
way.
But more than that, last night’s show was about the captain of the high
school football team coming back to town ten years later, and realizing
that he’d never be as happy as he was in high school. Paralleling
that, there was a high-schooler, Warren is his name (and by the way, the
actor who plays him is absolutely great), who was trying to get the nerve
to ask a girl out, but in the end she leaves with the high-school quarterback.
Ed was trying to console Warren, telling him that, ten years later,
the quarterback would be selling pharmaceuticals, and missing all the great
times he used to have.
“What happens to me?” Warren asked.
“You get the girl.”
here is a point to
all of this.
A couple of weeks ago was my high-school reunion. I hadn’t even
realized that I didn’t write about it until last night, when the memories
were triggered by, what else, “Ed”. Actually, there wasn’t much worth
writing about – there were only a half-dozen or so people I really wanted
to see, and most of them I can get together with whenever I want to.
Then last night I realized that that in itself made the reunion worth
writing about.
Most of the people who were there were the upper-crust of the class,
the athletes and cheerleaders. Though I’m sure that there was a lot
of reminiscing going on, I think the only reason most people bothered to
attend was the open bar. By the end of the night, I had two people
come up to me and (unsteadily) shake my hand, but I don’t think either
of them had any idea who I was (although I did vaguely remember both of
them). These were the people who, ten years ago, I looked up to (or
at least The System told me I was supposed to look up to), and here they
were, inebriated, stumbling around like bums, wandering outside for smokes,
and trying to get someone from ten years back to validate their existence.
I would guess that most of them would go home afterwards (if they made
it that far), to the same small town – and possibly even the same house
– they grew up in, probably quite a few of them alone.
And me? The guy who could hardly stand to go to his bus stop for
all of junior high and most of senior high, because he’d be made a laughingstock?
The guy who had a whole lunchtable of burnouts pick on him, just because
they were bored? The guy who was probably considered the biggest
über-geek in the class (well, at least in the top five)?
I got the girl.
