Going Places

By TAD BARTIMUS

Yo, Graduate! It's your turn.

You survived all-nighters, too much cafeteria pizza, coed field trips, soccer games and SATs (twice!). The days are whizzing by now, memories crowding one on top of the other. You're hanging with your friends - the same ones you fought with, cried with, confided in - while fending off extra attention from your parents. "Stay home and have dinner with us," they plead, knowing they'll soon have to let you go.

You've got a bad case of senioritis, Graduate. Your teachers recognize it as an annual disease, like the Thanksgiving flu; it ends the instant the last school bell rings. You'd rather cruise than cram for your last final, and that's cool, Graduate, because right now you are a golden child. You are full of promise and hope; in unguarded moments you still look too young to be setting off on your own, ready to take on the world and all it has to offer. You still run when you could just as easily walk. You still spontaneously throw your arms around us old folks in a happy hug. You still half-believe in Santa and the tooth fairy, and that life is fair.

When it came time to pick a college, Mom and Dad left it up to you. "We trust your judgment," they said. "Do what feels right." And you did, choosing the same one they secretly thought was perfect. Whew! The first hurdle crossed.

When you decided that instead of a graduation party you wanted to use the money to bicycle around Europe, your parents swallowed their concern for your safety and gave your dream their blessing. (Thank goodness you're going with a friend!)

They know that when they put you on that plane, everything will change. You will come back, but you won't come "home." Summer will end, college will begin, and you will move on into your own life. You will be older, more sophisticated, less spontaneous - in short, an adult. Your coltish enthusiasm will be tempered by the things you've seen, the goals you've achieved and the people you've met as an independent person.

But you're ready, Graduate. You already understand actions and consequences. You have blue ribbons and first-place trophies because you trained hard. You have scholarships because you studied long. You have educated yourself about the risks of drugs, alcohol and sexually transmitted diseases, and you have made good choices.

Since you're getting all kinds of unsolicited advice, here's a little more before you disappear over the horizon: Sing every day; when you enter a deposit in your checkbook, leave off $100 so you've always got a safety net; take a deep breath and let the other guy go first; re-read Shakespeare's sonnets every year; call your mother once a week (your dad will get on the extension); eat breakfast every day; belly laugh every day; always stand up for your friends; never work at something you don't love; don't say yes to your first marriage proposal - if it's real, they'll ask again; always celebrate your birthday; accept responsibility when it's your fault, keep quiet when it's not; and remember, for your ship to come in, build a dock.

OK, that's it. Put on the funny hat, line up and get ready. Oh, the Places You'll Go! As Dr. Seuss said:

"Congratulations!

"Today is your day.

"You're off to Great Places!

"You're off and away!"

© 2001 The Women Syndicate

Visit TAD at www.tadbartimus.com and send your own great stories – 300 words or less – to friends@tadbartimus.com or write c/o The Women Syndicate, P.O. Box 728, Puunene, Hawaii 96784. Thanks for sharing.

© 2001 The Women Syndicate. The content on these pages is the property of The Women Syndicate and may not be used without express written permission. Contact friends@tadbartimus.com