I didn't front up because, well, we already had a reunion 10 years ago and it was great; I can't think of anything I'd wish to add to the conversations I had that night.

Besides, I'm still in close touch with my chosen childhood mates (too close sometimes) and I also think the easy reach of Facebook has somewhat diminished the wow-factor of reunions, but that's another topic altogether.

I did, however, speak with a few people who did attend the 30th and was unsurprised to learn that everyone was pretty much the same person they'd always been.

They remain in the same careers they'd aimed for in Year 12, laugh at the same things, pursue the same hobbies, have the same politics - only now they have kids of their own in high school and they drive more roadworthy cars.

It occurred to me that had I attended, the same would have been said of me; the path my life has taken hasn't really surprised anyone nor set the world alight.

I never filled a stadium with fans, cured a disease or flew in space.

I can't even say I reached any sort of pinnacle in my chosen profession (more about that later).

Yes, upon reflection it turns out I have led an unremarkable life for the most part. And I'm OK with that.

But the thing is, I can't help thinking 18-year-old me would have gagged at the mediocrity.

Hendo at 18 had big dreams about changing the world.

Lately I've pondered what I might write in a letter were I able to travel back in time and hand it to that skinny, black jeans and earring wearing version of myself as he was pelting cars with eggs on muck-up day in 1986.

Truth is I wouldn't change too much, just some key things around the edges.

"Dear boy (for you are a boy),

Right now you think you know just about everything. You roll your eyes when your father tries to give you advice and you believe because you've read a book or two and pay attention to current events that you have a solid world view and all the answers to support it.

Buddy, you know jack shit -- and you won't be much the wiser in 30 years from now.

I'm not going to presume to tell you how to live your life; you can figure that out as you go.

But I will give you some advice, if I may, that may stop you making major mistakes you'll regret or not doing some things you'll wish that you had. Listen up:

Stop smoking immediately:

See the packet of Benson & Hedges Extra Mild in the bottom of your schoolbag that cost you $1.17 at the servo this morning?

Well, 30 years from now it's gonna set you back about $40.

Also, your durries won't come in the same pretty, golden packet.

The box will instead be plastered with photos of poor people with mouth cancer, disgusting cancerous lungs, the dissected brains of  stroke victims and stark warnings like "Smoking kills" and "You're a complete f---ing idiot."

Trust me, the longer you put it off, the harder it will be to quit. I smoked until 42. All that money and health ...

While we're at it, stop drinking and taking drugs:

  I don't know why you started skolling rocket fuel at 13 but for goodness sake son, enough is enough! Same with the mulling up. Some of the dumbest things you will ever do will take place when you're off your scone.

Like the time you fell out of a tree with a hand saw and nearly cut your hand off and the night you narrowly escaped plunging 11 floors to your death from a balcony in Port Macquarie.

Forget about a career in the media:

 I know you idolise Hemingway and that, as a press photographer, dad says "It's a good career 'cos there will always be a need for the written word."

Neither of those guys had heard of this thing called the Internet. It's a global network of computer servers that will revolutionise the way humans communicate and it will most likely see newspapers as you know them fade away.

Don't believe me? Stick with your plan and don't complain when you're made redundant at 45.

So instead of following dad's footsteps, have a good think about the other things you truly love doing and aim for a career in that field.

Maybe it's music. Maybe it's doing something physical. Maybe it's a trade. This Internet thing I mentioned, well, it's going to mean the end of a lot of different jobs but it will never be able to build a house.

Speaking of houses …

Buy one as soon as you can. Right now in 1986, if you could save every penny over the next five years, you could buy some property. In 30 years, that $47,000 unit in Pyrmont is going to be worth $1.31 million. No joke!

Take up surfing now!

You know how you complain to your mates every time they head to the beach with boards on the roof and beg them to get a case of beer and sit around drinking instead? We'll you're really missing out on something special.

Left to your own devices, you won't start surfing until you're 30 years old. Trust me - if you take it up now you will spend the physical prime of your life doing what you'll one day come to love doing more than anything.

Practise the guitar:

 And I don't mean pick it up every second day and faff around playing the same chords for 15 minutes. I mean practise it and master the instrument as best you can (and try to join You Am I somehow).

Don't get married the first time around:

Nice enough girl, but not a keeper. Don't worry, she feels the same way about you, too.

Marry Lizzie as soon as you can:

Don't mess about and put off proposing to the second Mrs Henderson for five years like I did. She's the love of your life.

... And drop that egg!

 If some punk hurled a carton of eggs at your car in 2016 you'd do more than write them a sternly worded letter.