A Reunion of sorts...Class of ‘83 25yrs after hurstbridge high school by Scott Joynson ~ Pictures Steven Lacey Not since turning 40 (which I’m still denying) had I agonised so much over something. It had all begun with a phone call. Pre-kids all telephone calls after 4pm and before 11pm were usually for me. More recently there had been a dramatic shift and virtually all calls were now love sick teenage boys looking for one of my daughters (I’ve got two), a Kennel related call for my wife Tania, or a call for my son Jack from one of his mates wanting to talk about the latest cheats for an Xbox game. “Dad….there is someone you went to High School with on the phone.” As I head off to take the call I’m wondering who it is and what they’d be calling me about – Amway! “Gday Scott, you might not remember me but it’s Brad Hay from Hurstbridge High School.” “Braddles,” I say, reverting back to his nickname which I haven’t used since – I’m not even sure how many years. “How are you going? Gawd... long time no see”. We chat lightly and as familiarly as if we were back in the corridors of Hurstbridge High organising one of those cricket matches where the sporty nerds take on the lady killer lads from ‘down the back’. It’s then that he tells me that he’s organising a reunion and that he’s hoping I’ll come along. I return to my chair thinking about Brad’s bushy eyebrows, his thick Elvis hairdo and the day he bribed us with chocolate so as to avoid birthday bumps. I’m quizzed by the kids and Tan separately all wanting to know who would be ringing for me at home. I talk about the plans for a reunion and Tan (formerly Tania Hooper a year level below me) laughs as she says, “So are you going to go?” I smile and say, “I am, and I think you should come with me.” Over the days that follow Tan and I chat with the kids about the different ‘groups’ that made up our year 10 & year 11 classmates. “Mum…you weren’t cool!” I assure Emily (13) our eldest girl that her mother was actually a lot cooler than me and that I recall being a bit of a no group guy moving amongst the quieter nerdy types as well as enjoying a fair bit of banter with those impressing the girls down the back. “I think I was a bit of a sporty nerd and a smart ass,” I conclude before the conversation moves to how Tan and I got together. My life nowadays is shaped by routine. Work for Dairy Farmers during the day, head home to Welcome Kennels in Yarrambat, catch up with all the gossip from my three teenagers and of course find out how my wife is coping with managing the Kennel in the mad lead up to Christmas. At work I’m invaded by stray thoughts about the reunion. A close up of a bulging cow udder with four plumb teats and no green stain is the final picture I need to crop for the magazine I’m putting together called the Australian Jersey Journal. Yet halfway through the task I’m back thinking about the phone call. Who would have thought someone in our year level would actually saddle up for the job of getting us all together and what was the motivation, aren’t we all too busy? I ponder on the different tribes that were our peers during high school; the nerds, beauty queens, hippies, sport heads, eccentrics and the cool. Who would choose to attend and even more importantly, would I fit in?