Today I went to my high school reunion. I went because I wanted to go, and also because I organized it. Why did I organize it? I don't know. I'm writing this post to figure that out.

I'm a sucker for nostalgia. I wrote about it in my post about 1994 music. My teens, the 90s, were a special time in my life.

I didn't appreciate it then as much as I do now, but having all the time I wanted to just be is a tremendous gift. My mom provided everything I needed to live a normal adolescence. I'm grateful for it. I think back on the 90s and feel warm and fuzzy.

Part of it is not having any fear of missing out. I was perfectly content with my neighborhood. Between roller hockey and music, my weekend plans were filled. There was always something to do, some place to go, and a 7-11 or Jack In The Box to stop by at on the way. There must have been dull days, but I don't remember them. This was a time of my life that just worked.

I must have been craving that feeling when I posted on the Facebook group that my class created many, many years ago. There had been some chatter about doing a reunion but plans never materialized. This year is our 25th year after high school and I knew this year would come and go unless someone said something about making a reunion happen.

One night a few months ago, that's what I did. I said this needed to happen, and I suggested we do it towards the end of summer but before school starts for most families. Either of the first two weekends in August should work, I figured, and I also decided that we should do it at a public park in the middle of the day. I love a barbecue and the potluck picnic format would make it family-friendly.

I suggested it! And people responded. We got 33 RSVPs and a bit more than half of them showed up.

What does a reunion have to do with my 90s nostalgia? I think it's being in the presence of artifacts of this time in my life. These people were there too. They are proof that the 90s happened, that this time in my life was real, because they lived it too. It's the difference between seeing a work of art online and visiting it in the museum. When you're there, live, it feels different.

That's the same feeling I get with my classmates from Los Altos High School. I knew a few of them well. Most were vaguely familiar faces. But all of them gave me that feeling. We did that together. You were there too. And now we all miss the 90s.

We can all be nostalgic together.

Maybe the museum is a bad example. It's more like a concert. Here's a perfect example: Tonight, my sister-in-law and her husband went to see the Backstreet Boys at the Sphere. Talk about nostalgia. It's one thing to listen to "I Want It That Way" streaming on your headphones and remember that middle school dance. It's a completely different experience to be in the same building as not only the Backstreet Boys themselves, but thousands of other people having the same experience at the same moment.

My reunion today was a Backstreet Boys concert. It was all of us being nostalgic together, in awe of the passage of time, and grateful to still be alive to witness it.