I am another who graduated high school in '88. Lost my virginity as a graduation celebration. That summer I worked as a laborer/fire watch at the local paper mill to make money for college in the fall. That job taught me the value of finishing college and getting an inside job with air conditioning. 
Got to college in the fall and realized I wasn’t as smart as I thought. It’s simple to be smarter than most of the people in high school. When you get to university, you find out lots of people scored over 32 on the ACT and you ain’t special.
That was also the year I finally shook off my Pentecostal religion and became agnostic. The seeds of that change were sowed the summer of '87, but the fruit was borne that year.
I am another who graduated high school in '88. Lost my virginity as a graduation celebration. That summer I worked as a laborer/fire watch at the local paper mill to make money for college in the fall. That job taught me the value of finishing college and getting an inside job with air conditioning. Got to college in the fall and realized I wasn’t as smart as I thought. It’s simple to be smarter than most of the people in high school. When you get to university, you find out lots of people scored over 32 on the ACT and you ain’t special.
That was also the year I finally shook off my Pentecostal religion and became agnostic. The seeds of that change were sowed the summer of '87, but the fruit was borne that year.
Another '88 high school graduate. I was working at a bowling alley for most of that year (long since knocked down) and really starting my long-term love affair with Russian. Listened to plenty of Spike Jones and had by then pretty well figured out I was a Socialist, although I flirted briefly with the Russian Orthodox Church after I moved to Alaska in the fall. Spent an inordinate amount of time on QuantumLink Chat (what was it, like $.06 a minute or something?) and downloading games for my C64 off of bulletin boards. Had already lost my virginity (thank you, Donna, wherever you are) but wasn’t doing all that well on the relationship front.
It was an OK year. I’ve had better. I’ve had much worse.
I was delighted to finally be working with my friends Dean and Frank again in a SRO reunion of the group we had in the late 50s. Dean just couldn’t accept the fact that things had changed, though, and when he flicked that lit cigarette into the audience it was “Love you Dino, but you’re outta here!” and next thing we were schlumping again with that drunk Judy’s kid…
Wait, that wasn’t me in 1988, that was Sammy Davis, Jr… Whatever; don’t worry be happy.