Hands down, Facebook is the single greatest invention of the 21st century.

Oh sure, some jackass will stroll along in the next year or so and dazzle us all with a flying car or vacuum based hair-styling gizmo, but until that day happens, Facebook rules the roost.

Simply put – it’s the one feat of mental engineering that has allowed all of us to realize that impossible dream of pulling together every awesome personality we’ve ever spent time alongside or whiled away an evening in total, intoxicating conversation – and has allowed us to meet and greet in the same room, no matter how many miles may span between. It’s shrunk the  Earth and evaporated the gulf of time. And it’s a Godsend for cyber stalkers everywhere. That’s WIN-WIN baby!!!

I first joined up last Fall – almost a year to the day – when I attended my good cousin Jason’s wedding. At the East Coast reception, I was blitzkrieged on all sides by friends and relations begging me to sign up so they could follow my every move. Living the jet set life, I’m used to the damned paparazzo leaping from every dog house, hen house, boat house and outhouse looking to snap a picture of me and Taylor Swift macking the night away – but this brave new world of electronic surveillance was so new and unusual too me – assuming you forgive those  unfortunate boudoir photos that surfaced a year or so ago. (That wasn’t even me – it was my head on Jennifer Aniston’s body). Anyway, when I retired home that evening, I found an invite from a friend waiting for me in my inbox. I took that as the seventh sign and immediately joined up before the seas boiled and the rivers flowed with blood and the End of Days were upon us.

In no time flat, I had 198 friends, been nailed with 3,212 virtual snowballs, was sent 18 unsolicited Mai Tais and contracted Scrabulous (which doctors tell me, there is still no cure for).

Now, it’s impossible to get together with absolutely everyone that has resurfaced but that hasn’t stopped groups of us from dreaming it. Last Fall, when it seems like everyone I’ve ever met joined up within a day or so of  each other, the chorus rang loud and clear. “We’ve got to get together.” Unofficial High School reunions. Dorm reunions. Prison reunions. All were on the docket. And none materialized. Again, it’s hard to get the stars to realign for 4 people let alone 40. But that doesn’t stop us from wishing and pining for it.

Well, we finally made one of these happen.  In December, a small group of my friends from Rockland High met up in the midst of the holidays for a little R & R at Rock Bottom in Braintree. There were 8 of us – all dudes – hanging at the bar watching the end of the Pats game and bidding a fond adieu to a season that began with the catastrophic Brady collapse and hinged upon the Jets fortunes to make the playoffs. Of course, we all know how that ended. Regardless, our small group had a great time reconnecting and we made a pledge to pull another one together and coax more people put.

Since that time, the Facebook network has grown and I have seen more people shake off the cobwebs of time and materialize as if a day hadn’t  passed (let alone a decade or two). And the refrain recurred in earnest. “We’ve got to get together.”

Once again, we made the impossible a reality – pulling a group of roughly 40 of my former classmates together for an evening of great spirits and good cheer in Boston’s North End this past Saturday evening. Out of our graduating class of 160 or so, we grew our numbers from the 8 that showed last winter to 40ish this past weekend. I’d call that a rousing success. And an awesome time was had by all.

It was midway through Monday Night’s triumphant return of that patented Tom Brady heart-attack closing magic that I wandered away from the tube at half-time and thought I should finally get to work jotting down the assorted thoughts that have been pinballing throughout my brainpan ever since I got together with them this past Saturday night. I’d had 48 hours to detox and assure you, I was of sound mind and smokin’ body as I wrote this.

Our little Facebook derived non-reunion reunion thang was simply put – FANTASTIC!!! Couldn’t have gone better and I couldn’t have been happier with the turn out. Hell, just then, I was at the very peak of contentment – full of that special brand of good cheer that goes great with cold beer. That intoxicating euphoria that takes hold, hard and fast, when you find yourself face-to-face with a long lost friend and instantly feel the years evaporate, the miles shrink, and the sweet, soulful strains of nostalgia stir in your memory as you instantly realize that no matter how many days may pass and how many towns may stand between your Point A and their Point B – you’ll always have an indelible bond, forever tattooed to memory in indelible ink.

Anyway, I hit that sweet spot Saturday night – completely drunk on the good spirits generated by all of them – as our faces beamed, hugs were shared, and we instantly took the time warp back a couple decades past – to a time where the stress of mortgage payments and H1N1 paled in comparison to who could hook you with a ride to Skatetown U.S.A. or pick you up from the Hanover Mall after catching that 10 p.m. showing of They Live. And then, my good buddy of old, Jay Bain, darkened the doorway and really made my night. My guess is everyone had someone step from the shadows and make them glad they showed their face, too.

And that was the promise I granted all of them when I etched the invite. That they were guaranteed to walk away from that evening better for having attended. For repositioning their schedule, jockeying child care and taking one night out to reconnect. Technology has done wonders and we wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for the magic of Facebook – but social networking can’t pull you close and give ya’ a warm embrace.

Like I said, I call it The Impossible Dream – that fantasy land where every single GREAT person that ever waltzed into your life never had to mosey along. Well, that’s just it. It’s a fantasy – a folly – a sweet, blissful dream that comforts you at night. But it’s impossible to make reality. As we’ve spread throughout this grand adventure of life – chasing down our own disparate avenues and roads less traveled, we’ve accumulated vast networks of GREAT people – too numerous to ever contain in one life. So, thankfully, technology has brought us one step closer to realizing the dream. But, it doesn’t mean we can’t secretly harbor those melancholy musings of a grand land where somehow we all coexist and keep those good times rolling.

Each time someone walked through the door of the All Hands Club, my face lit up. It was the rush that comes when confronted with ghosts from your past and seeing the years melt as your brain plays catch up, comes to term with the fact that the mental image you’ve carried all these years of some gangly 16-year old has now morphed into a responsible, mature thirtysomething and yet, in that slightly aged face – the same “wicked good kid” still resides. We’ve all led extraordinary lives – and it was AWESOME hearing from each of them talk about where their feet have led them – and if I harbored one regret, it’s that there wasn’t time enough in a night (let alone a life) to really catch up PROPER!!! We knew walking in that the night would come and go in a flash. What’s that they say?

Time flies when you’re having fun!!!

I had a blast. Loved it. Loved every single second of the night. The band Wood rocked the freakin’ house down and my one regret there is that I don’t live close enough to really add myself to Kurt and company’s growing gang of groupies. To that, I’m sure Kurt is wiping his brow. “Whew, really dodged a bullet there.”

As I led with, this idea was born from Facebook and picked up steam last Fall when so many of us got reacquainted. That small gaggle got together during the holidays and from there, we promised we had to do it again. And the great Jim O’Connor kept on me to kick start the planning. And then our MVP Sarah Collins jumped off the bench and belted it out of the park – securing the great (FREE) venue, building the event page, and providing daily dispatches to make sure the event stayed tethered to our memory. Oh, and as an added bonus, she sports Wood!!!

But all of that was preamble. Everyone that showed made it the great night it was. I talked up a lot of them and wish I had days to really catch up with everyone. I’m sure others feel the same!!!

To that end, I’ve decided that we can’t let another couple decades pass without grabbing the opportunity to keep our shared history alive. At the very least, we make this an annual event and we grow its membership.

That’s my pledge, anyway.

And that’s how you make the impossible a reality.