Fair to Middling

When I think of some of the happiest times in my life, many of them focus on either my time in high school or my friends from that time.  My high school experience sure doesn't resemble the ones you see in most movies or read about in books.  If anyone brought a gun to school, used drugs or turned into a She-devil, we didn't know about it. No "Carries" or Vampires.  A few criminals but even they could be sweet.  My time there was happy and I felt good about myself and my choices.  This past weekend I sat and talked with many of the girls who helped to enrich that experience for me. It was a time when half the sentences began with "y'all listen" and ended in an exclamation point. We laughed at ourselves and each other as we shared recipes that began "start with a piece of white bread" and  "top with Ritz crackers".  I heard phases like "then come to find out" and "don't that beat all".  As I listened to these funny, smart and relatively happy Southern women,  I wondered why I was not traumatized by high school or why the memories are not painful or at least confusing.  But these women seemed to feel the way I did about it.  On the way back to Georgia, it came to me.  I realized that the best way to grow up is to be mediocre. I don't mean that in a bad way.  It just seems that life may be easier for you if you fall somewhere in the pack growing up.  If you were the prettiest girl, you had no where to go but down. Every wrinkle, sag and extra pound will be detrimental to your self image.  If you were the ugliest, heck, even if you grow up and get rich and have everything fixed, Bless Your Heart, you may still hear some of those names in your head(or from your mother!).  If you were the smartest, then even if you are the Governor, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court or President of the PTA, either that little voice in your head or some well meaning Christian lady may still be telling you that you failed.   If you were the dumbest, well, dumb breeds dumber and dumber breeds dumbest, but you're probably so dumb you don't even know it.  The sweetest girl in class better have moved on to be with Jesus 'cause even if she was still as sweet as a jug of Luzianne Tea, somebody will find something wrong with her. And no one will believe the biggest Hussy has changed even if she is Head of the Adult Choir at First Baptist.  So, I think if you are pretty enough to get a date to the prom and smart enough to go to college, well, then you have a really good chance of being OK with yourself and your life. I think that's why when I have gone to my Class Reunions, the Most Beautiful, the Homecoming Queen, the Class President or the Valedictorian are no where in sight. Maybe those people are not as happy about how their lives turned out.  Maybe its us, mediocre, in the middle, who end up having the best memories and are not afraid to face each other or the facts of our lives.  If you moved up, nobody is surprised. And if you moved down, well, nobody is surprised ('cept maybe you). So to all my didn't win anything in the yearbook or didn't date the captain of the football team (who after a few years is almost always bald and turning to fat) friends, I say ain't we lucky. And thank you from the bottom of my heart for the memories, years ago and this weekend..