Classmates [dot] Com

As someone who is awkwardly bent toward nostalgia, I often delve into the Twilight Zone-ish idea that my 12-year-old self still delivers papers after school. Okay, that's not simply bending, and it certainly isn't simple nostalgia--it might be a problem. But, since I can't afford a shrink, you'll have to ask yours what he or she thinks.

Wait--I've digressed somewhat. Consider this: Have you ever wondered if people you think about occasionally think of you? For example, think of someone from high school, someone you spent a lot of time with and thought of as a good friend. Imagine you still think fondly of this person, though you have not heard from him or her in a long time, and then weigh the odds that this person is sitting in front a computer right now and thinking of you. Or, maybe not thinking of you, maybe thinking of a good recipe for salmon, one that can be used for next Saturday's gourmet club.

Which, naturally, leads me to Classmates.com, a website devoted to nostalgia if ever one existed. You can do some things for free on this website. For example, you can set up a profile that someone, maybe that old friend who isn't thinking of a good recipe for salmon, can read. When you log into this website, you can see how many people have viewed your profile, and how many have left you messages.

Now for the sad part. I set up a profile several years ago, but seldom do I actually log in. Recently, however, I did, and I found this: 16 people have viewed my profile, and 2 have signed my guestbook, whatever that is. Yeah, that's it: 16 + 2.... The 16 viewers are anonymous, and I am not interested in them. I am, though, somewhat interested in who signed my guestbook, for these people made an effort to let me know they're out there somewhere. One signed in the summer of 2007, and one signed just a couple of months ago. The thing is, the only way I can learn who these people are is by giving Classmates.com some money, which I've almost done a few times but, those same few times, have balked just short of entering my credit card number. (And if you're thinking that maybe it's not 2 people but the same person, I've admitted that as well. Just let me have my fantasy, okay?)

I would like to ask those 2 people some questions: who? what? where? why? when?

Being a cheapskate is not always such a good thing.