COLUMN: Hang on to your caps, graduation looms
As I sit here at the computer ready and willing to write something meaningful, I am realizing that I forgot to put some extra quarters in the parking meter. Dang it, hang on a sec …
OK, sorry that took so long. Apparently somebody thought it would be “funny” to boot my car. Har, de, har, har – hilarious. Oh well, I guess my new permanent parking place means I won’t be getting anymore speeding tickets.
Nothing’s better than parking problems to remind you that graduation is near and folks can finally leave “bootville” forever. In a short couple of weeks seniors can get all dressed up in silly looking dresses and ridiculous hats to celebrate Beltane by worshipping pagan gods, lighting bonfires and dancing around large poles. No wait, that’s just for the Scottish seniors. The rest can just graduate like normal.
Commencement, though, can never really be described as normal. Something always happens to rouse the “U” through “Z” students from their blissful slumber, waiting for endless supply of “Johnsons” and “Smiths” to get their diplomas. Undoubtedly, one male student will find it necessary to be devoid of cloth covering except for the graduation gown and “accidentally” let everyone else discover how pasty white he really is.
Then, there are the really short girls who try so hard to get a few extra inches by wearing outrageously high-heeled shoes. Inevitably they trip over themselves, their gowns, their hair and their tassels in a wild, sprawling stage dive onto the gym floor. Many onlookers laugh hysterically, but most cringe with that barely audible “ooohh,” except for Striejdishnek Zmiblitnoff, that one foreign kid who is so confused, he thinks he needs to duplicate the spectacle to fully understand American culture.
The fiercest part of the graduation experience involves family and friends. Not all of them, just the erratically, overzealous relatives, the extremely proud parents and the picture-taking aunts. The audacious parents arrive at the venue 18.5 hours early “to get a good seat” which of course turns into 13 rows of good seats. Curious other folks arriving on time, looking for somewhere to sit that doesn’t require the use of high-powered binoculars, are warded off like jackals defending their prize zebra carcass.
Yes, these are the same parents who bring cowbells, foghorns, car alarms or grandpa sneezing to let everyone in the vicinity know that “he’s our son!” I hate those parents. Grandpa can stay though; he doesn’t know any better.
Picture-taking aunts have historically almost been stepped on by graduates returning to their seats, as well they should. Eager to get that perfect shot, they try hard to get in the way just enough that it won’t disrupt the ceremony. Only with the spatial perception they accrue by spending way too long looking through a viewfinder, they somehow end up close enough to the degree-recipients on stage that they can tell how much ear hair the provost has.
If you have an aunt like this, just make sure you eliminate all boogers from your nostril region, or you’ll never want to review your graduation photos or video. And by the way, don’t buy the graduation video from the school. It’s too boring to watch again and if you’re like me, they’ll just decide to cut your head out of the shot during your moment of glory. I’m not that tall!
I wish every graduation could be amusing instead of so mind-numbingly mundane. If we replaced those boring speeches about how we are the future leaders of this country with multi-colored fireworks and a short laser light show, everyone would be satisfied. Besides, the speeches never tell the newly graduated “future of America” that we will now be consigned to odd jobs for the next couple of years consisting mainly of shoveling manure or even worse, telemarketing.
I’m guessing that there’s some hidden message written in all that Latin stuff on the diplomas that, depending on your major, either says, “I’m a genius, hire me,” or “I have a highly contagious, genetically mutated, viral infection, RUN!”
To you seniors, I say make the most of graduation.
“Make the most of graduation.”
Bring all sorts of devices to make the experience worthwhile. And by devices, of course I mean bazookas, because I know there’s at least one kid whom you’ve repeatedly seen over the last four years that you just really want to blow up.
The ensuing madness begins at 9 a.m. on May 1. Whatever you do, don’t forget to polish your shoes, iron your clothes, do your hair, and drop $50 in my checking account for boot removal fees. Good luck and happy graduation!
Garrett Wheeler is a graduate engineering student and hopes to someday have a car of his own. If anyone has seen the real owners (Blaine and John) of the booted car outside the TSC, let him know at wheel@cc.usu.edu.