Who Me?

I was laying in bed this morning where everyone I knew in high school is and really not so much high school but junior high. Since I had my neck breaking accident in the summer before I started high school I never did get much of a feel for what would have been my high school crowd.

I was pretty excited when I first started getting into the INTERNET and realizing with this tool I could re-connect with all the people I used to know particularly those folks I knew, or thought I knew and wished I could have kept on knowing. I even signed up on the old high school website thinking this would be a way to find these people. I saw some of the names of the people I wanted to contact and dropped a couple of emails to them. I got a couple of returns, superficial at best. I was surprised to say the least but did not think too much about it. Then about a year later I was contacted by a person I barely remembered Roger someone or another. We had a couple of classes together. He was your run-of- the mill four eyed, non descript almost a hood but not. I remember he stood next to me on the line in P.E.

Well, I got the email from Roger. He was now living in Southern California. Roger had been through a couple of marriages and was working as some sort of a mechanic or grease monkey. Roger had also developed a website in his “spare-time”. I of course looked it up to find images of non custodial children motorcycles past and present, images and references to time spent with the US Marines and a lot of heavy metal. Then good old Roger dropped the bomb, “ Hey, man I have some time coming in a couple of weeks. Why don't I saddle up and bike down to visit.?”

Now I have to admit I was sort of freaked out about the thought of Roger coming to visit. I could barely think of anything to write while I was emailing let alone trying to do something in person; plus all the other issues, did Roger think he was going to stay at our place, would we have to feed him or just go out to dinner and on and on and on. I stopped responding to Roger's emails finally the emails just stopped coming. I guess that was cruel but what else could a guy do?

So the question of the hour is...am I everyone else's “Roger?” I very well could be just that guy 'what was his name? You know the guy who had the motorcycle wreck just before 10th grade. We visited him a couple of times then everyone put their pictures together that Christmas and gave it to him when he was in the hospital'. When I first realized this I was a little freaked but it sort of makes sense now. I never hung with their group as it was. I donot think I was an outcast, I was basically accepted, I think but I knew I was weird and I knew that people thought my group was weird then.. so why would things change now?