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Over the holiday weekend, I attended a reunion celebration for a media company I use to work for some years ago. It was a sad affair all around. You know when you first hear about reunions they sound like a good idea until it actually happens. They are like strip clubs. They never live up to the hype (except for this one time in NYC…whew. I digress.). Anyway, it sounded like a good idea because I would get to see some your old friends and show all the old haters how good I’m doing now.

I got myself together like prom night with my wife looking like the local version of Will and Jada. We look good, smell good, feel good and to top it off we had a babysitter for the night so we could be full grown adults all night.

We walked in smooth as the Mack walking the red carpet at the Players Ball. As my mother would say, “there weren’t no flies on us” cause our sh!t didn’t even stink that night.
NOTE: This is not a picture from the actual event, but very easily could be.

When we walked through the doors, we expected to enter a Diddy party…music bumping, people dancing all over the place, happy people popping bottles for old times sake…ahhh the dream. In reality, we walked into a party with a bunch of middle aged people too tired to try an recapture their youth. All the women had gained a few pounds (I’m being nice). The men who had the long flowing locks and muscles of the African Adonis looked like Forrest Whitaker. It was a sad site to see the dance floor almost empty until the line dance songs came on. Then all 75+ of the single women rushed the floor to dance with each other because there weren’t any single men at the party looking to dance with them. It was a perfect time to hear Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” for the third time that night. It was sad.

My wife and I were sitting at a table of with 10 other women and none of them were there because the worked for the company, but were hoping to party like a celebrity for the night. They were all single, relatively attractive (I’m being nice again) and appeared to have their stuff together. Kinda reminded me of a Black “Sex in the City” crew.

Much like I heard one reviewer say after seeing “Sex in the City 2″ instead of admiring these women at the table for their freedom and accomplishments, I felt sad for them. And in the end, I felt sad for myself as well.

The reunion party could never live up to the expectation I had for it because I wanted it to be like it was. It ’s hard to admit, but I I’m not the man I was either. But that’s also a good thing. You can never go back and as you grow and get older, you realize that your time has come and pass in certain arenas. That’s why you have to enjoy it while it last. We have to learn to stop trying to relive the old memories and start making new ones.

Although the party was sad, it was good night. I did get to play dress-up and hang out with my wife. We can be the local Will and Jada for life.

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 3rd, 2010 at 4:01 pm and is filed under Other. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.