Ever since I was a kid, I love watching PBS on the local station, OPB. I can remember watching everything from Square One, 3-2-1 Contact, Hometime, various high-school and college math courses (which would explain my elementary school years), and Doctor Who.

But, if there was one thing that would always spook me out was at the end of several shows. It all starts off with a black screen, then came a flash of orange and some odd, loud and electric sound that fluctuated… it was the WGBH identification and stinger. Not only that, but the next thing I would see is a picture of some forest with the words “Portland Nursery”. For a long time, I would immediately switch channels when either would come up, mostly when it lead to the introduction sequence for “Mystery!”

Back to the present, I now am anxious and sometimes excited to see and hear the WGBH identification and stinger, mostly after watching “Frontline”. The experience is even better on a large screen with the speakers turned up.

It’s interesting to look back and see how jarring it was when I was a child, but now that I’ve grown up, it is now the opposite. The same goes with the earlier Doctor Who theme (watching Tom Baker’s head fade in and out didn’t help keep me calm as a kid), in which I feel relaxed and settled listening to the latest incarnation.

It almost makes me want to use the stinger sound as my ring tone, though I may end up being physically harmed if I do so :)

Tonight, I went to my ten year high school reunion primarily to get out for an evening and to see if I would remember some of my classmates.

I was somewhat surprised that I could recognize a fair number of people, while others I do not remember or could not recognize at all. For many, they looked like and had the same personality from ten years ago; others the faces were familiar but the demeanor changed dramatically… at least from my perspective. Someone who had routinely picked on me for a while back then seemed to be a lot more friendly.

I came to the reunion knowing that I would mostly likely leave depressed and disappointed with myself; obviously, that’s how I felt driving home.

I also knew that I wouldn’t see a certain person at the reunion, I still left with a heavy heart when she didn’t attend the reunion.

Even after ten years, the reunion just felt like almost any other day in high school: felt lonely, distant, shy and overall, a mixed bag.

The following poem was written a couple of years after I graduated from high school about my yearning of someone; but due to my extreme shyness and stupidity, she never really knew. The pain of my stupidity has grown and diminished over the years, but has recently peaked as it has been ten years since graduation and I have yet to be able to grow out of my shyness and immaturity.

Anyway, the poem: