Summa Cum Laude

whatever will be, will be."

I ran into this little girl (estimated age 4) hanging on to her mother's thigh at a farmer's market.  It was about three years ago. I'm not sure I've captured the measure of her expression's impact on me. I can only tell you that expression ignited a rocket of emotions from my pate to my "pinky."

This toddler's expression is related to a man holding a dog on a leash right in front of her. Mother's leg seemed to be her only defense.  It was a kind well trained dog, but she had no way of knowing that. She was not about to let go of that thigh.

Well when I was her age, 4? It is my earliest in life total recall. I was in a yard three doors to the south of ours. There lived a teenager with a real sadistic mean streak in him.  I won't use his name in case he has a really good lawyer. Let's just call him HP.

Well HP invited me into his backyard and asked me if I wanted him to lift me up so I could see what was on the other side of the fence?

"Okay!"

Well, HP lifted me up, and set me down on that other side of the fence and walked away laughing. I on the other hand was full of fear and bawling. I was on the next block and I might as well have been in another galaxy.  I was totally lost.

It probably took a half hour for me to hook back up with my parents. I don't know if HP got in any trouble for that, but here is an example that there CAN BE justice in life.

A few years later HP tried to get frisky with my older sister. He clearly picked the wrong victim. She quite methodically shoved a broom handle down his throat separating him from two of his front teeth. ( My dad, who grew up on the streets of Chicago during the great depression, was pretty insistent that all us offspring know how to handle ourselves.)

The story is, urban myth though it may be, says HP ended up in prison. That would be justice plus. But back to that toddler's expression.

I've been seeing it over and over again on campus this past month. It is acute graduation panic fever. It is staring at the unknown.  

Every once in a while I catch myself being cruelly philosophical.

"Oh, don't worry about it. You'll find something.  It'll all work out."

But that little girl's expression has become my conscience. I was shaking in my boots at graduation. I had no idea who was going to hire me, what exactly I'd be doing, where I would be living, and I had this giant dog staring me down and growling at me.

Well it has all worked out and I regret nothing. But in truth that degree is not mother's thigh. Even for Summa Cum Laude the essays, the multiple choice and the true and false have just begun.

I think what I've learned in retrospect is that you cannot replace mother's thigh. But you can ease the fear and pain by (cliche alert) "sticking together." Stay in touch with each other. And don't just share your successes. Share your pain, your fears, your suffering as well.  (cliche 2) Misery not only loves company, it needs it.

Every single one of you will experience some degree of loneliness, fear, real and emotional pains you won't even be able to express or define.  And in a world that is changing so dramatically right now, don't expect to find instant security. And don't hide behind false bravado. 

It is true that for most of you things are going to eventually work out. Not all of your decisions will be perfect ones. And the dreams you chase will evolve. And you won't be PERFECTLY happy.

"the future is not ours to see, que sera, sera!" 

But if you stick together, share your moments in time, support each other, be your own institutions, everything IS going to be okay.

Oh, and this is really important.  Enjoy it. Enjoy it. Enjoy it. Do that? And mother's thigh can take a break. And you can put regret back in jail with HP.

CONGRATULATIONS.

Mother's Day

"She walks in beauty, like the night!"

Lord Byron

It is still the toughest profession on earth, motherhood. It is clearly the longest career path. It starts with "mu,mu," progresses to "mama," to "mother," to "mom," to "grandmother," to "grandma," (pronounced GRAH mah) to "nana," with a whole bunch of pet names along the way.

The Mother I'm closest to is my wife.

 

And yeah, I call her Peggy, but I'll admit it today. I need a little "mothering" once in a while, and even though sometimes I think she resorts to some pretty "tough love," it is all for my "OWN GOOD!"

This is an exciting time for Peggy. The is the first time she spends Mother's Day as a GRANDMOTHER. She is out in Calfornia babysitting little Maren Noel.

But it is just like her. In the midst of feeding the baby, then singing her to sleep, and yelling at the dogs, she is worrried about her daughter Rhonda having to be away from her child on her first Mother's Day.

 

And, hey, I think she is worried about me and what I'm doing. Now that may be "did he remember to take out the trash,"  "did he straighten his collar," " did he wipe the toothpaste off his lips," "did he shut off even ONE LIGHT in the house," did he wash any clothes?" Well you get the gist of the moment.

I can be an independent cranky old guy. I can work up a very crusty attitude. I curse at stupid drivers, I make caustic remarks in the grocery store. I get dirty and don't clean up for days. Every once in a while I spit.  And I love this new study that says you'll live longer if you regularly expel gas. But do you know what?

When she is not here?

 

I MISS MY MOMMY!

COME ALIVE!

I tell my broadcast journalism and announcing students that it is not true you must be a type "A" personality to have a radio and or TV career. You need not bounce off the wall 24 hours a day. And that is true, too, of all types of performing.  It is just that when the Curtain goes up? When the Camera Light comes on? When the Microphone Switch is thrown.  THEN YOU COME ALIVE!

I think most people can intellectualize the concept.  And I think most of us have heard how that BIG star "SO AND SO" is really nice and shy in person.  But sometimes you need something or someone special to illustrate it.  Man did I get it in my email today.

That is Stephenie Davis up there. I used to call her student.  Now I call her friend. She was a division 2 all conference basketball star.  She was an all around track athlete and  javelin champion in high school. She graduated with honors. But believe me it never shows in person. She is so calm, so warm, so polite, so unassuming.

Peggy and I used to love to go to the restaurant where Stephenie served breakfast.  She would walk up to us, form this huge ear to ear grin, and say, "THE USUAL? " Who does that anymore?

But there is a larger story to this posting. I get lost in time frames these days.  But I think it was about two years ago that a coaching job didn't really work out for Stephenie. And she was back waiting tables. She was getting tired and feeling sick to her stomach. She was losing a lot of weight. She thought it was the long hours and hard work.

It turns out she became critically ill with what turned out to be Chrons disease. Surgery followed. They took away most of her stomach. There would be a long rehabilitation period.

Well SHE IS  BACK...and when the CAMERA SHUTTER SNAPS? Stephenie Davis COMES ALIVE!  Moved by some of the people who kept her alive, Stephenie is heading to nursing school in Portland next semester.  And it looks to me like, and hey I'm way predjudiced on this one, she is going to have plenty of cab fare money from MODELING on the side.

She is one of those athletes you CAN dress up.  Hey Steph, does that nursing school have a basketball team? Just wondering.