ABOUT WOMEN
Class of '73 grows a little grayer, but more distinguished, too

By Christie Wilson
Advertiser Staff Writer

I missed my 10th high school reunion, and the 20th, frankly, was a bit of a bore. Maybe it was the expansive ballroom and bright lighting, but people seemed reserved. It was like being in a room full of strangers.

Or maybe, at age 37, we were still getting used to the idea of being responsible adults.

What a difference 10 years make.

As I was leading a conga line around the Wai'alae Country Club dining room during the recent Kalani High Class of '73 reunion, I couldn't help but notice the mood was more relaxed and folks were ready to cut loose.

At this point in our lives, we've come to accept the choices we've made, good and bad. We survived illness, divorce, the death of parents and other loved ones, child-rearing, career upheaval and whatever else life had thrown at us so far.

We may have taken different paths — airline pilot, brain surgeon, school principal, engineer, minister, dentist, air traffic controller, business owner, real estate agent, musician — but time brought us to the same place.

And forget what I said about the diet. We're less self-conscious, not as concerned with impressing anybody. What you see is what you get. (At least that's what I told Sean at the Paul Brown salon during a $150 hair-color job earlier in the day.)

That array of wrinkles around the eyes? A sure sign of character and a life well-lived. The dependency on reading glasses? A natural progression. A little excess flab under the arms or around the midsection? Welcome to my world.

It is my opinion, in fact, that we all looked pretty darn good. No, really. The women were fabulous and the men had that more-handsome-with-age thing going on.

Which brings me to my next order of business:

To the classmate whom I told that my female co-emcee and I had decided he was the cutest guy there: I didn't realize I was holding a live mike when I said it. Oh, and you have a very pretty wife.

To the judge: I hope it was OK to invite everyone over to your Kahala house for the after-party.

To the reunion committee and the band, made up of members of the Class of '72: You rock, and we didn't thank you enough.

To the Wai'alae Country Club staff: I hope it wasn't too much trouble picking up all the door-prize tickets I flung in the air like confetti as a final gesture of celebration at the end of the evening.

The whole 30th-reunion experience was strangely empowering, and I was still feeling the buzz a couple of days later when I found a champagne cork in my purse — a souvenir of a fun night that I suspect will not be duplicated.

I can't speak for all my classmates, particularly the large number who didn't attend the reunion. But for me, reconnecting with the past was the boost I needed to face the future.

Or maybe I just had too much to drink.

Reach Christie Wilson at cwilson@honoluluadvertiser.com.