Where are they now and what have they done?

As Noel Coward never wrote, “It’s extraordinary how potent cheap cardboard is!”

This seemingly nonsensical perversion of the original quotation was in my mind because Toni is clearing out boxes of things that he has not looked at for years.  As I was typing on the third floor I could hear little squeaks of pleasure from a floor below as each old-new item was brought into the light.

Lots of them were tickets: a ticket to a Wales v Italy game in Cardiff; a ticket to “We Will Rock You; another to The Tower of London; an entry to an ‘adventure’ park in Mexico; a ground plan of the Prado in Madrid; a year book showing me with 11D, my last form; a stand ticket to Cardiff City; a ticket for the Mecano musical in Madrid – these ageing pieces of card, some from almost twenty years ago were not just reminders of places visited, but also with whom, and the development of a relationship.

The speed with which plan, followed ticket, followed photograph was a breathless cavort through a couple of decades of life past and a consequent focus on life present.

This ripping open of memories actually chimed in with a piece of writing that I was attempting to start that centered on somebody musing about where his schoolfriends were now.  As I wanted to portray a retired person (like myself) I was thinking about how many of my schoolfriends I knew about.  They are now all of retirement age, so how many have I kept track of?

And the answer is very few.  

With confidence I can only claim to know one friend form my schools and he I have now known for fifty-six years.  

Of my class from Primary school I now know no one.  The lives of the two classmates that came with me to the same high school are closed books now.  One classmate from my area of the city I know about because he is a national figure.  Just two people out of thirteen years of education!

My secondary school produced professionals, so the probability is that the majority of my fellow students became doctors, teachers, researchers, engineers, academics, managers, businessmen, media sorts, thriving in their chosen professions, becoming well known within their own circles, but not achieving break out international fame.

I wonder if, like those pieces of card unearthed from an ignored plastic case, there would be a similar breathlessness, if all the grown up kids that I have been educated with could be brought together and what we have (or haven't) achieved through the years would amount to.

Speculation, but interesting speculation.  What difference have we made.  Though talking about a 'we' when it is merely a concept as there is nothing 'real' to link us all, apart from the happenstance that we shared teachers at some times in our lives and well before we had started out on our chosen professions.

My father always said that he never went to reunions because, "You send the first five minutes saying what you are doing now and then you get down to the real purpose of these affairs, drinking!"  And my father was no great drinker!

Perhaps speculation is best safely left to subject matter in literature - or even what I might write!

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