Entre Les Murs

The Old Boys Club is the Knickerbocker

The colourizing of my middle school miseries has progressed considerably towards a nostalgic sepia.  Few of my peers at Upper Canada College, which I attended for grades seven, eight and nine, are remembered with great fondness (although not none).  But I've recently discovered that these poisonous little boys have grown up into the captains of industry that we were told they would, and the difference between the idea and the reality is surprisingly genial.

This comes up because I have recently been discovered by the UCC alumni association and consequently opportunities have been arising to mingle with ex-pat Old Boys here in New York.  In early February, there was a reception for UCC and Bishop Strachan School alumni at the Canadian consul's residence.  And the other day was the annual reception for New York alumni at the Knickerbocker Club, which is exactly the kind of place, apparently transported directly from 1890s London, that you'd expect to find UCC grads congregating.  It has been strange to see people I last knew at age 14, now with thinning hair and jowls; but as I say, surprisingly pleasant.

posted 5.4.09