College in Autumn

This photo is actually from a few years ago when Emily was still in school, but Indiana University-Purdue University has been in the news lately (not necessarily in a good way). The time of year is about right! This is the Liberal Arts Building, if my rusty memory serves.

I really loved being down at IPFW, which is easy for me to say because it was Emily who had to actually pass the classes. I'd find a nice spot and write, and there were lots of nice spots. I wrote several columns and the majority of two books—maybe three—while she was in school. For a writer, there's something to be said for leaving behind the distractions and errands of home.

Plus, the library was awesome.

When Commencement Speeches Attack

I’d planned to spend all week finding really subtle ways to remind everyone of my book signing July 11^th, from 3-5 p.m. at Noble Art Gallery, 100 E. Main Street in Albion. But then I remembered I still haven’t posted my column—for June—so for today I’ll have to go without mentioning it.

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

With June comes graduation, and I always wanted to do a commencement speech. I don’t know why. I’m not that good at public speaking, and I’d guess a graduating class is one of the most impatient audiences a speaker could have.

“Dude, I’ve been stuck here for twelve years. Let me out, tonight’s the party!”

We can only hope that guy isn’t a college grad.

I think there’s some kind of legal requirement for graduation speakers. They have to hit on all the stuff about everything that’s ahead of you, huge milestones, your life can be great if you aren’t so drug-addled that you forget to use birth control … I haven’t heard that last specifically, but it’s implied.

If I did give a speech, I’d probably feel duty bound to say those same things. But I doubt I’ll be invited anytime soon: I’m living proof of what happens if you get out of high school and don’t apply yourself. No college degree, no succeeding in my chosen professions, no film crews following me around … by 21^st Century standards, I might as well be living in a cardboard box.

Oh, sure, I’ve had a job since I was 21 and I’ve never been arrested, but how do you turn that into a reality show?

So I won’t be invited to do commencement speeches, and that’s fine, because I don’t think you get paid for those things. Just the same, after years of real life experience, there might be useful things I can pass on to today’s graduates:

First of all, listen to people who have years of real life experience. These would be the same people you spent your teen years not listening to. In some ways they can’t help, because they’ve turned cautious. They remember the terror of diving into a strange new world, but not the exhilaration.

In other ways they can help, because they’ve turned cautious. They understand the value of a retirement plan, owning instead of renting, understanding a world you think doesn’t affect you, and using birth control.

If you think I’m stressing birth control too much, you definitely need to listen to the cautious people. Also, Google “how much does it cost to raise children?”

Here’s another good piece of advice you won’t listen to: You’re totally don’t get that expression, “you only live once”.

You scream “YOLO!” and then drag race down Main Street, take off on a road trip with no gas money, or chug down so much booze that you don’t remember all the “fun” you had depositing half-digested nacho chips on your girlfriend’s new hipster boots.

If you can’t remember having fun, does it count as fun? Well, maybe it does to whoever posts the highlights on YouTube.

See, if you only live once, then doing stupid, dangerous things for no reason means you could die, and not come back. So if you only live once, you should take a minute to pick and choose your fun. Maybe something with just as much speed, but no illegality … and maybe more safety restraints.

At this point none of the graduates would be listening to me anymore, so I’ll pretty much say whatever I want:

Don’t do anything—ever—that gets you compared to a Kardashian.

Strive to not star in a viral video. We live in a world where people laugh at you, not with you. Laughing along with them does absolutely nothing to make you look less stupid to, say, potential girlfriends or employers.

On a related note, don’t downplay the value of potential employers. In real life it’s possible to party your life away, but only if you die really young.

On another related note, don’t die young. Yeah, sometimes the world sucks, but it’s the one you’re in … and it doesn’t suck nearly as much as you think.

If somebody offers you some great new drug and you notice they look like a cross between a mummy and the “before” photo in an acne commercial, run away screaming.

Sometimes screaming can be good for you.

Finally, here’s one of the most important ideas you’ll ever learn: Learn. Yeah, college is good, but educating yourself is just as important. Look at it this way: If you get into an argument with someone and realize they’re ignorant, it means you’re not. It’s a much better idea to recognize ignorance than to wallow in it.

And that would be my serious moment, if I got to make a speech. After all, you only live once.

Speech tip: Pretend you know what you're talking about.

Graduating From The Doghouse

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

            My wife has a lot of good qualities. Of  course, if she had bad qualities I wouldn’t write about them here, would I? That’s called “preserving the evidence”. I didn’t read all those mysteries for nothin’, bub.

            I, on the other hand … well, my qualities are only so-so.

            Which leaves me here, in the doghouse, which I guarantee the dog doesn’t appreciate at all. You see, in May Emily became a college graduate, one of the first ever in either of our families, and I didn’t throw her a party.

            Oh, I meant to. But I also meant to write a bestseller and have a beach house in Maui, and that hasn’t happened so far, either.

            What threw me is that, after a great deal of thought, she elected not to go to the actual graduation ceremony. When I was younger I thought that kind of thing was a requirement, but turns out they’ll still give you your diploma even if you don’t slap on the cap and gown. That being the case, I assume my sneaking into Purdue’s graduation with a stolen cap and gown thirty years ago would have gotten me nowhere.

            I returned the gown, by the way. Kept the cap.

            For some reason I’ve never been certain of, you’re graded in college on a 0-4 scale. You’d think colleges would be able to come up with something that had more numbers! For instance, my solid C average in high school would have translated to a solid … I don’t know … 2.5? Math was never my thing, which explains the solid C.

            But Emily is a genius, darn her, and is of that rare group that actually graduated with a 5.0 grade scale average. Don’t look at me like that, it’s true: She’s smarter than perfect. Well, she would have, if they had such a thing. She got on the Dean’s list pretty much every time except for during the whole operation/critical illness thing, which I think qualifies as a fair excuse. I got on my teacher’s list once, but boy, was that a different list.

            I know what you’re thinking: “Okay, she’s way smarter and you forgot her graduation. What does she see in you, anyway?”

            Um … well, I’m cuddly. And I know what you’re thinking, so there’s that. Otherwise, I’m trying hard not to dwell on the fact that when we met I had high speed internet, and she didn’t.

            Anyway, we both have issues with large crowds, and an IPFW graduation ceremony is nothing if not large crowds; in addition, she has issues with spending money, even on something like a cap and gown. For this I am extremely grateful. I could have married someone whose issue is with not spending money.

            The result was no ceremony, which led to me forgetting to throw her a party, and thus to the doghouse … which is cozy, but doesn’t have the best atmosphere.

            A party is certainly in order. I stink at planning parties, although I’m better at it than, say, assembling a small engine, so I’m going to farm that out. What do you think? Put my mom to work and have a mom-type party? Or talk to her friends and throw a friend type party? I’ve screwed this up badly enough that I’m thinking both.

            Meanwhile, I ask this of all of you: If you meet her on the street, talk to her on the phone, or (more likely) encounter her on the internet, tell her Happy Graduation! Exactly that way, with the exclamation point. She deserves it. I really enjoyed our time at IPFW, but I just sat there in the lounge areas with my laptop and wrote—she went through four years of real work.

Meanwhile, obviously, I’m going to take her out to dinner. We don’t go out to dinner often—see above about issues with spending money—but this is a major league screw up. We’re not talking Applebee’s screw up … we’re talking Red Lobster screw up.

            This is secretly fine with me, as I love their steak and they have biscuits I’d happily kill for. But it’s important to make her think it’s a major inconvenience that I’m doing just to make her happy, along the lines of holding her purse while she shops for clothes.

            Maybe I’ll hold her purse in Red Lobster. I wonder how many biscuits would fit in there?

 

My wife studies hard. Especially in this case, when studying our wedding license for loopholes ... just in case.