Pomp and Circumstance

I won the tie-wearing argument, the no-sneakers argument, and the belt argument. I even won the "you will let me take your picture" argument. Three times. Actually, come think of it, I won all the arguments today. That either means I'm getting better, or that Luc was in a mellow mood and was willing to accept my viewpoint on some things. I'm betting the latter.

I was surprised by the fact that students were allowed to decorate the tops of their mortarboards with glitter and dingleballs and sequins, and in one case most of the contents of a bag of Hershey's assorted chocolates. And cans of silly string were openly stored beneath chairs and sprayed everywhere at the end - although I suppose it's safer than the traditional throwing of the mortarboards. Back when I graduated from high school, we were sternly warned that the sharp corners of a descending mortarboard could "put an eye out."

The normal platitudes and pat appreciations were passed out, with half a dozen girls thanking different people at different times for "being there for me." And the commencement address centered on Dr. Seuss' "The Places You Will Go" and the Disney business plan: the gold paint on the carousels is actual 23 kt. gold, and the 37 hitching posts are repainted every night so they always look fresh, and so on. As Luc described it later, "the guy spent 20 minutes talking about paint." But the band executed a passable rendition of "Pomp and Circumstance," and later rocked a few favorites like "Louie, Louie" and "Crazy Train." And with only 150 or so graduates, the whole thing went reasonably fast.

And now, as Luc has pointed out at least twice, he is a graduate. I asked him if he was proud of himself, and he said that he might be proud on his death bed. I guess he doesn't think he's earned it yet. Still, when I told him I was proud of him, he seemed content. And he keeps opening up that leatherette case with his name embossed in gold on the front to stare at the diploma inside.