I have never attended a class reunion. The reason is simple: fear. I am pretty sure I would end up stuffed in my old locker. Not that that happened back in my school days...I just think I have it coming. Also, the one time I actually got an invitation to a class reunion my name was misspelled. Now, I grew up in a very small town with one Nichols family so it would actually take some thought and effort to send an invitation to "Joelle Nickkles." I figured that was a not- so-subtle hint that I'd not be missed. Oh, the "invitation" inside the envelope was actually made up of letters cut from newspapers and pasted on a sheet of paper..."If yOu KNow whAts gOOd foR YOu forGet YoU evr goT thIs..."

Family reunions are a different matter. Growing up, my mom's side of the family had frequent get-togethers, usually in honor of my grandma's birthday. Aunts, uncles, cousins all over some poor, unsuspecting park...eating, laughing, playing games, running wild. My dad was an only child so everyday was a family reunion for him. He never had to share the potato salad but had big problems in the three-legged race.

The trip to DC I bloggified about the last couple days was, as I mentioned yesterday, triggered by my wife's family reunion. They are spread from coast to coast but make the effort each year to be together around the 4th of July. I am always pleasantly amazed by how fast all the cousins reconnect and, then, conspire against the adults. The youngest of nieces and nephews look at me like a science experiment gone horribly awry and are encouraged in this conclusion by my own kids. There are certain things that must happen at this event like making ice-cream. Everyone gets the opportunity to spin the handle. When Grandpa announced "Okay...let's turn the crank!" my second son flipped me out of the hammock, saying, "There, I've turned the crank." Gotta love those teenagers. Speaking of the teens, they had some wardrobe issues. Each year, t-shirts get created commemorating the reunion. When the kids were tiny, they would wear them all Independence Day. Now, the three oldest grandchildren are a little hesitant to go out in public looking like part of a group...especially a group that includes me. My two oldest sons and their oldest cousin did put on the shirts for the group photo but got out of them faster than a naked porcupine runs from a pin-cushion factory. Next time it takes the boys an hour to change their clothes, I will remind them of their quick-change artistry.

Speaking of the annual group photo, this year we took it following the fireworks on the Capitol Mall by a statue of Einstein. Wrangling 11 kids into one area and getting them to all look pleasant at the same time is not easy. At one point, it appeared my youngest had taken off his special t-shirt and was making a run for freedom. His grandpa bellowed "Harry! Get back up there! Right now." Well, the poor little guy's eyes got wide, his bottom lip quivered and he was feeling anything but independent on the 4th of July. He started to race toward the other kids and was taking his place when we realized that 11 had just turned into a perfect dozen. The child was not one of ours. At least he will have lasting memories of the "scary man at the fireworks." It seems appropriate that it was at a statue of Einstein thatGrandpa's personal theory of "relatives"-ity got a little skewed.

My father-in-law also likes to organize a touch football game. The problem in that for me is that I lack competitive fire not to mention athletic ability. Bear in mind that I have a brother-in-law who bikes to work on a regular basis and another who considers 18 miles a short run. The kids are all pretty good at sports, too. I tend to stand at the line of scrimmage like a diseased elm tree. Every now and then I lumber down field making sure not to look back for a possible pass until the play is officially over. Let's put it this way, if I were a character in a Peanuts cartoon, Lucy wouldn't have to do a thing to make me look more incompetent than Charlie Brown on the field of play.

I do enjoy these reunions but, I will admit, I feel quite useless. Okay, I feel that way most of the time, anyway, but it is exacerbated when surrounded by such accomplished, intelligent, decent people like my wife's family. They all have talents to contribute to the occasion. Some are great in the kitchen or at the grill. Some can organize anything, get all the kids to take part and have fun! One brother-in-law takes terrific pictures and puts them into a computer slide show for all to enjoy. The immediacy of that still startles me. I am pretty sure my mom has film in her old Brownie from the summer of 1964 that hasn't yet been taken to the drug store.
The whole family is up on the latest gadgets and technology. In fact, I am pretty sure they had to be consulted before the shuttle went up last week. My kids are fascinated by one of their aunt's cars that talks to her. I don't think I'd want a talking car. I suspect everytime I got in, it would moan and ask "Did you put on more weight?" Then, it would question why every route I take includes a donut shop. But, I digest...I mean, digress. Each year, after the reunion, I come home happy for the time spent together but feeling pretty flabby...physically and mentally.

Maybe my brothers and I should organize a reunion back in Wisconsin. Wait. That would put me dangerously close to my old high school and my...old...locker!