On New Year’s Eve, I found myself in the ultra far east end of Toronto spending the last moments of 2007 with the kids I went to kindergarten with! While my rapidly receding hair was turning its shades of gray, the faces of my oldest friends were filling in with the adult flesh accumulated through our forty or so years of living. The physical changes that happened to the children I grew up with made the moment infinitely more interesting. Would I know which one was Ian and which was Thomas? I can’t believe I even remember their names given I often have a hard time remembering the simplest things. It wasn’t so hard to spot the old childhood friends behind their new adult faces. To be honest, I did have some high-tech help.
Though I live 4500 km (3000mi) away and haven’t seen these people in almost twenty five years I can still recognize each of them. I have a Facebook account and have trolled the images of former classmates in my unending quest to get half-a-grasp on the curious and surreal process of growing into middle age. I know what they look like, what they’ve done, where they went to school, who they married and what their kids are doing. They know the same about me. We all come to the party with a foreknowledge that makes conversation run smoother, faster and deeper. I can now keep touch with my deepest roots in cyberspace. Personal contact would be better but half a loaf is still a fair sized chunk bread.






















