High School Reunion

This year is the 25th anniversary of my high school graduation. To commemorate this amzingly mediorce achievement, the class officers have planned a reunion. Unfortunately due to personal circumstances, I will be unable to attend. In lieu of my presence, I decided to put my bio out on Classmates.com. False modesty aside, I think it's pretty good. Here it is for your reading pleasure: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well, after Justine read my bio she IM'd me and encouraged me to tell the truth about my life. So Justine, this is for you. As you may know, I moved to Spokane, WA in the middle of our senior year. Instead of forgiving my parents after 20 years, I think I'll wait awhile longer. Just kidding, if it wasn't for that move I wouldn't be who I am today. Which is, of course, an overweight ex-jock with severe chemical dependencies and no hope of ever climbing out of the slimy hole I dug for myself. It all started when I first walked into the football locker room at Washington State University. You may remember that I was a small wisp of a child, but I had heart and that is why they allowed me to walk on at WSU. During my freshman year, I discover the potential of steroids. By my sophomore year I was 6'2", 290. I made the starting squad, anchoring the best offense line ever to play at the college level. You might think that being the third person selected in the 1985 NFL draft would have gone straight to my head. Well, it did. For my entire twelve year NFL career, it was all booze and ladies and of course steroids and HGH. After awhile, the ladies part fell off do to my shrunken manhood. Suffice it to say, I'm half the man I used to be. But I was still happy. I mean who wouldn't be with nine super bowl rings. Once I let go of football after my emotional "good-bye" tour during the 1997 season, things got a little rough. But that only last a few months before I landed the gig as the lead singer for Van Halen. Although it was a brief stint, one album, one tour, it was the best five months of my life. I have spent the last eight years trying to recapture that brief moment of glory. Now I sit around in my uniform of boxers and a wife beater drinking beer by the case, smoking crank, watching tapes of super bowls and listening to that sweet platinum record that Eddie, Mike, Alex and I managed to create in a marathon 12 day nonstop recording session. Man, I miss those days. I really thought those days would last forever. Damn you Sammy Hagar for coming back. He walked in the studio one day and said "I'm back". And there I was, turned out like a $3 dollar whore. Most days, I roll out of bed around noon and curse the fact that my eyes opened to greet another dismal, disappointing day. My five ex-wives and 17 children hate my guts and took all the money I didn't manage to squander on sex, drugs and rock-n-roll. I fat, broke, stupid and lazy. All I can do is yearn for the days when rapid fans would scream my name. And you wonder why I am not going to show up at the reunion. Please. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Of course none of that is true, but how sad if it actually was? More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.