Graduation Daze

Bill Graham Presents…a few hundred

more people out looking for jobs.

I recently attended my daughter's college graduation. (Blogger's note: Woo-Hoo!) Let me tell you, there's nothing like the building excitement in anticipation of seeing your child walk across the stage and hearing their name called. Okay, there is something like it. You know how when you're on a long drive and you had that large cup of coffee and there's nowhere to pull over to pee? You know that feeling as the pressure in your bladder seems to be continually growing, and you keep fidgeting in your seat hoping to find a position that will make the discomfort subside? And when you finally find a restroom, and you get to the door and it's locked? And you have to find new muscles to keep from peeing yourself? Yeah, graduation ceremonies are like that, too. For the first hour and a half we took a slow, bladder-filled drive through the obligatory class addresses.

Public speaking is like drinking. If you carry on too long, nothing you say will make sense and even you won't remember half the crap you said. The worst part about listening to a long speech is when it sounds like it's over, but it turns out it's only the end of a paragraph. Psych! Granted, there are a few exceptions as occasionally a speaker will craft 10 or 15 minutes of golden prose, or some well-known figure - an actor or politician - will add notoriety to the event. Or maybe even someone gets up there who can actually speak. Otherwise, it helps as a listener to have mastered the art of maintaining a balanced, upright sleeping position so you don't end up using the shoulder of the person next to you as a pillow.

First up, the school's administration. The university president kicked off the show with a little song and dance that acknowledged the efforts of each and every student, and praised the kids' commitment to the time and hard work and late hours required to achieve their individual successes. This was followed by the caveat that leaving the halls of academia is only the first step, that there is still more hard work to be done, more obstacles to overcome, mountains to climb, levels in Black Ops 2, etc., ad nauseum. But..."the faculty and administration of (insert school name here) have empowered you with the ability to meet the demands of the world and conquer them." This is the school's disclaimer, similar to the "past performance is not an indication of future earnings" admonishment your stock broker gave you. That's right, mom and dad. If your kid tanks in the real world, there will be no refunds. Then came the closing, the gratuitous tip of the mortarboard to the parents for the checks they wrote sacrifices they made for their children.

Grainy Father/Daughter Coincidence: A universally accepted practice in commencement speeches is to include a movie or book quote as a way to time stamp the period of a particular graduating class. This year, a new Star Trek movie was released, which meant the quote du jour was the "boldly go where no one has gone before" tag. The movie Hangover Part III came out this year, too, but apparently nobody had the balls to use Mr. Chow's "So long, bitches" line, which I'm sure a majority of students would have found to be more on point. Coincidentally, my shining graduation moment came in 1979 when another Star Trek movie, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, was released. If any Trekkie geek gave a commencement address in the late 70's that included Spock's "Why am I here? What was I meant to be?" speech, or any other line from that movie, they would've gotten their ass kicked. Again.

Next up to the podium were two guests being given an Honorary Doctorate Degree of Letters. An honorary degree of letters is generally awarded to someone who has distinguished him/herself in a manner befitting the image of the institution presenting it. It comes in these forms: as an academic thank you card for recognition of the individual's contribution of expertise to the advancement of the university, as a lifetime achievement award for the celebrity who is speaking in lieu of an appearance payment, or as the "GED of higher education" to celebrate the person who barely got through high school - if at all - but slogged their way to some level of prominence without earning a real college degree. The last one serves as a harsh reminder to the parents in the audience that they spent $60,000+ to educate a kid who odds are won't realize the same level of success the speaker achieved after dropping out of school at 20 and scrubbing toilets for minimum wage.

The HDDL speeches take on the whole follow-your-dreams theme, which includes these keys to success:

• Don't let anyone tell you you can't.
• The only closed doors are the ones you don't try to open.
• Failure is not an obstacle, it's an opportunity.
• The only true competition is within yourself.

Wow. Thank you for your 20 minute diagnosis on how to succeed in life, "Doctor."

Finally, the undergrad valedictorian and the graduate valedictorian spoke. One got to tell everybody what a crappy student he was, no focus, no direction, until that special teacher found the hidden quality that changed his whole outlook on life. The other got to tell everybody how crappy his life had become, no drive, no future until he decided to put the lives of everyone close to him on hold so he could go back to school, which changed their whole outlook on his life. Then both attempted to make some sort of peer correlation which, frankly, is ridiculous because they are valedictorians, for Pete's sake. They are better than everyone else and therefore have no peers. (Go ahead, ask them.)

So other than giving me fodder for a blog post, the only impression any of the speeches made was left in the shape of my butt cheeks in the seat cushion. The life/academic pictures painted by these honorees were self-portraits on an over-stretched canvas and set in recycled frames. I didn't need to listen to 90 minutes of other peoples' Oprah moments, nor did my daughter need to listen to 90 minutes of "life's not fair." As a responsible parent, I already passed that nugget of disappointment to her at a young age, and then reinforced it as needed.

My kid can kick

your kid’s ads!

Finally, I got to experience that glorious moment when my daughter stepped upon the stage and her name was announced, which meant I could get up and leave. No one said I couldn't. My daughter, on the other hand, was told during rehearsal she had to stay to the end of the ceremony. But she's educated, and has my genes (So long, bitches!). I couldn't be more proud of my daughter and all she's accomplished. I've watched her struggle, overcome and succeed, so I know what she's capable of. And even if the world bends over and takes a huge shit on her, I'm confident she'll come out ahead. She's got a BFA in advertising, so her "Will Work For Food" sign will be masterfully crafted and prominently placed.