Mad Giggler on :
interesante
Thursday, August 25. 2005Macon Craig
If I could have, I would have stayed away. I hate listening to those speakers who try to excite me by telling me over and over again how great the future's going to be. I hate Pomp and Circumstance. But most of all, I hate satin robes and those ridiculous mortarboard hats. So why was I there? Well, every now and then, my parents do show up, and my mother had rather strong feelings about my desire to miss my own graduation. So, under threat of death and/or permanent injury, I went to my own graduation.
Here I was, a conformist celebrating my conformity, so of course, I had to rebel. No shirt for me. Shorts and a pair of flip flops under my robes was plenty. I sat in the back seat of my father's car, thinking about Rocio and nodding at appropriate intervals while my parents droned on about how proud of me they were, how they were sure that I would be a great success at the university, and so forth. They almost caught me when they asked what I wanted for a graduation present. For a moment after my mother asked the question, I just sat there smiling and nodding. When I realized that they actually expected some other reply, I blurted out something that seemed like it would be appropriate in most situations. "I'll have to think about it." At that, they resumed their conversation, and I went back to nodding at appropriate intervals. We separated at the door to the auditorium. Like a mouse in the maze, I followed the arrows and signs that led me to a room where the graduates gathered to receive their last dose of free public education. "Right now, you represent the future. Your friends and family have gathered to see that future. Please don't give them reason to doubt you. This is a ceremony, a dignified passage from childhood into adulthood. Keep it that way." He droned on. I had to smile to myself. This "ceremony" was as much about them as it was about us. It was their time to show that they had successfully prepared us for a "dignified passage from childhood into adulthood." Yet they still doubted whether or not they had done so. I started when everyone stood up and started shuffling around. I felt someone shove me. "Hey, Bacon, you're in my spot." After several re-orderings, they pronounced the order satisfactory, and we began the trek into the auditorium.
I managed to ignore the speaker, tune out the band's awful rendition of Pomp and Circumstance, and forget about the foolish clothes I was wearing. I even managed to pick up my diploma and shake the principal's hand without tripping. After that, all I had to do was sit for a while. So I sat. And while I sat, I thought about Rocio, and wondered when, or if, I would see her again. I pushed my way through the crowd. I'd like to say that I threaded my way through the crowd, but fat men never thread, and I felt especially ponderous at that moment. I saw my parents, and began to hurry. Even their company was better than the milling crowd around me. I had almost reached them when I detected a familiar scent. I stopped, and looked around. "Hey." She was smaller, more delicate, but somehow, even more attractive in real life. "Hey." I swallowed, not knowing quite what to say. "I'm sorry." "Yeah, me too." She looked over her shoulder. "I've got to run, but," she stood on tiptoe, and kissed me on the cheek. "congratulations. I'll see you tonight." With that she turned and disappeared into the crowd. My father clapped me on the shoulder. Startled, I spun around, and saw my mother looking after Rocio, a puzzled look on her face. "Do I know her?" Trackbacks
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