COLUMN: Commence!
Even though I’m no longer in college I still love the idea of Commencement. In fact I think that everyone, everywhere, every four years – or 10 years if you are a graduate student – ought to get a chance to start over. For those of you who are neither in college, nor have a loved one going through the process, let me supply the requisite graduation wisdom that will thrust you forth to commence whatever it is you have in mind.
I’m not proud of many things I did in college. In fact there is a guilt bag full of things I hope my parents never find out about, even 22 years later. It was pretty unremarkable. I got a couple of A’s , missed the Olympic trials by a couple of injuries and probably missed killing myself by a couple of drinks. It was a poorly scripted movie set to a Frampton soundtrack.
College is pretty clear while you are in it; it’s only years after that the lens gets a little fogged and it, thankfully, becomes the blur that everyone talks about. The thing I’m most proud of is the test that I flunked – The Milgram test.
It involves having an electrode taped to your fingertip and another to the fingertip of a person in another room. You are then asked to play a graduate student-led, sadistic version of Jeopardy where you control an electric shocker dial that goes from 1 to 10. There have been a number of volumes written about it, but in short it is an extreme test of your willingness to question authority.
I got shocked but refused to shock in return. Both electrodes and psychology graduate students still make me twitch when I see them.
I know you are all getting impatient with all this sentimental reminiscing, so let’s move on to the advice part of my Commencement speech.
Always question authority; don’t become lawless, but question; remember that television is called a “medium” because so little of it is well done; if you get into a car and the person sitting next to you is a crash test dummy, get out of the car.
Don’t floss in public; tattoos outlast most relationships; personal appearance is important, but remember Albert Einstein changed the world; everyone should write poetry, but few people should share it; the fastest measurable speed in the universe is the time it takes you to go from age 30 to 40.
Nature brilliantly somehow keeps you from smelling your own feet; your father had the sex talk with you too late and will have the death talk with you too early – and you will do the same with your children; you will spend the first half of your life trying to not be like your parents and the second half trying to recall what they taught you.
Cats kill songbirds; vote; people like to watch TV because none of the people on TV have time to watch TV; decaf is not coffee; the blues is the only constant in music; when in doubt, wear a helmet.
You won’t remember your commencement speaker, but you will remember your first colonoscopy; never confuse your career with your life; rent your soul if you absolutely have to, but don’t sell it; nobody ever looked back from his deathbed and wished he had worn a tie more often.
You will remember your mistakes more than your triumphs, and your mistakes will make you more human than anything you could win; most people are so envious of handicapped parking spaces that they seldom stop to think about what being handicapped really means; cleanliness isn’t anywhere near godliness, and righteousness is nowhere near thoughtfulness; and remember that it is called a cell phone because it will make you its prisoner.
Well I guess that is enough. Throw something in the air and get out of here before someone says, “Your whole life is ahead of you.”
Dennis Hinkamp’s column appears every Friday in The Statesman. Look for his next column next semester. Comments may be sent to slightlyoffcenter@attbi.com.