Next month there will be a celebration in Los Angeles that I very much regret having to miss. It is a reunion of my high school graduating class of 1961.

The Class of '61 at Alexander Hamilton High School was, in some ways, quite remarkable. The students, largely from middle-class Jewish families, were part of an idealistic generation whose parents lived through the Depression and World War II.

By American standards we weren't rich — well, most of us weren't — but we had our cars, our rock 'n' roll, our own teen-speak and fashion sense. (The button-down collar has remained; the little belt and buckle on the back of the pants dropped off.)