Friday is Homecoming. The Saints play Cloverdale. Those of us from the class of '66 know a little something about that rivalry.

Small towns are about nothing if not family and neighbors. "Home Coming" captures it all in one fantastic day-one that won't appear in "W" nor be chronicled by Wolf Blitzer.

Over a thousand locals will line the sidewalks at 2pm to watch adolescents with painted faces parade down Main St.

There are pluses and minuses to growing up in small towns.

We've all seen the movies and read the books about the stunted teen that just can't wait to join the Navy, or hitchhike to the Great White Way--anything to escape the suffocating environment of small towns. Hollywood would have the population of Calistoga if it didn't hold the promise of fame and fortune that can't quite be attained in Lower Lake.

The desire to seek the bright lights of Broadway seems to be encoded in our genes. However, so too is the desire to return Home. Was the man talking about Odysseus or baseball when he defined our American pastime, thusly? "Baseball is about trying to get back home--and how difficult that journey is".

Thomas Wolf, of course, debunked the entire hypothesis, bluntly. "You can't go home again".

Yet, Elliot wrote: "We shall not cease from Exploration/And the end of our exploring/ Shall be to arrive at the beginning/And know the place for the first time.

When we moved back west from New York in '83, we rented a house in Moraga. The Goobs went on a shoot to Greece. I was Mr. Mom to our 9 month old. Come Friday night, I strolled "The Caesers" down to the local high school to watch a football game under the lights. I cared nothing for the teams involved.

I had forgotten about the eerie glare of the lights--the smell of wet grass. I watched the teenage boys roam in packs; the girls giggle and hide; the "hoods" (gangstahs?) sneak smokes; the younger ones playing impromptu touch football on the sidelines; the band; the cheerleaders. It was perfect. I caught a contact high from the energy of youth at a Friday night game.

Tomorrow , history will repeat itself for the umpteenth time. No. I'm not yearning for "the Good ol' days"-nor saying how much better it was back then. In fact, if you come out tomorrow you'll find that it is just as good today as it ever was.

(Except in the announcer's booth where Mr. Raymond's stentorian voice once recorded our exploits).

No matter where you went to high school-the memories come flooding back-both good and bad. Sad to say High school was not the best of times for many kids. All the doubts, insecurities, and hang ups of adolescence may never leave.
We know the cliché's: BMOC's who are failures in the adult world. Beauty queens who peaked at 17. Films have been produced about the revenge of the nerds.

Today my homies and I laugh now about the teen age rituals that were so cruel. Like other agricultural towns, St. Helena High once reeked of a Lord of the Flies existence--one where the stronger kids inflicted immense pain on the weaker ones.

Hazing was brutal. The defenseless were "pantsed", spat upon, slugged and generally humiliated. No one cared. It was considered normal--a rite of passage.
I'm no fan of bullying. Big mouths like me were policed by a "natural" law. I can still remember being one of 8 freshman boys in a Senior P.E. class. The welts raised by towel snaps and "goosing" were an everyday torture. A good day was one where the only warm water you felt came from the shower. No doubt our comeuppance was well earned. The law of the jungle prevailed and we were expected to deal with it.

But the good memories outweigh the bad.

During the parade, we will relive a magic moment. We will know the excitement that these kids feel. Once, oh so many years ago, we walked down this same street--to the same shouts--sensing the same excitement--feeling the same insecurities, wearing the same doubts--while hoping the same hopes. And if tomorrow, the neighbor standing next to you didn't walk down this Main St. in his teens, chances are he did walk down some Main St. somewhere--and knows just what is happening. For the kids, it's Home Coming.

For us it's about coming home.