Congratulations to all the graduates at every level, college, high school, middle school and kindergarden. This is a necessary ceremonial marker to remember significant transitions and major accomplishments.

OK, maybe not for the kindergarden graduates. That one might be more for the parents.

But for those who put on robes and hats at this time of year, it is important that we all acknowledge the achievement of completing a course of study. It was my great pleasure to attend a graduation last Sunday and to honor my son, Gus, and his friends as they moved into a new phase of their remarkable lives. Here they are, giddy with relief and tossing out a leg to take the next big step.

While I am filled with a father’s pride in my graduate and overwhelmed with admiration for excellence of his friends and the education they were offered, I did find parts of the final rituals a little comical.

Saturday night featured a ceremony where the graduates gathered in the chapel, heard speeches from classmates, sang a few songs, and then went out onto the campus grounds to find a lantern with their name affixed. Over 700 lights were aglow in the falling dusk. To hasten the search, the lanterns were arranged alphabetically. It was a beautiful scene with lovely symbolism, and weirdly appropriate that the final test after 16 years of schooling required a public demonstration that one had mastered those confounding ABC’s.

The next day was even better – I loved the sight of all the scholars marching in orderly lines to their rows of assigned seats – something I had just seen on an old videotape of a preschool holiday pageant. Major difference – as pre-schoolers, they were allowed to bang drums on the way.

And then came the ordeal – sitting under a merciless sun in 90 + degree heat for two hours wearing black robes and caps – something no truly educated person would choose to do. I wondered if the administration would unveil a late stunner of a surprise and award diplomas only to those who had the sense to skip the ceremony.

But no, this was a final, necessary hurdle, and will be remembered forever by the graduates for their sense of educational accomplishment and the light headed feeling of stubborn pounds most certainly lost through perspiration. On a molecular level, this graduation was a race between the need for the learned speakers to say every word they had carefully written, and the assured disintegration of the student’s bio-degradable robes. Moisture always wins in the end!

Congratulations Graduates! Now you know how to be patient and obedient, and if you hadn’t learned it before, now you know how important it is to hydrate!

What is your favorite memory from a graduation ceremony?

Dear Dr. Babooner,

About ten months ago, I was asked to give the commencement speech at a local university and I said “yes,” not thinking that the time would come when I would actually have to do it. But now that time is here and I’ve done nothing to prepare. The speech is tomorrow and all I’ve got is a head full of nonsense and clichés.

When I think about the speech I’d like to give, it’s full of wisdom and fun and the students love it they’re glad they came and grateful they had the chance to sit in the 90 degree heat while wearing black robes under a full sun to listen to it.

But in reality I don’t relate to young people very well, and even if I did I don’t suppose there’s anything anyone could say that would make them grateful at this point. They’re tired, broke, in debt, and are being sent out into the economy to find work when job prospects are impossibly bleak. There’s a huge backlog of highly educated people just like them who have been sitting in their mother’s basements for the last decade, playing video games and picking up pocket change through intermittent babysitting and landscaping jobs.

I looked online and found lots of advice on giving commencement speeches – most of it in the form of pithy clips from talks given by celebrities and earnest instructions from well meaning haiku writers who will never, ever, be asked to do what I’m about to do.

I’m frightened. Right now, this is the text I’ve got.

“Congratulations, Graduates. You’ve already been though a lot, and that has prepared you as you head out into the world. Because whatever it was you went through, there’s a lot more of it out there, and some of it has your name written on the side.

So work hard, conduct yourself with integrity, and whatever you do, always, always know your audience. In particular, always try to be aware of the boundaries – those places where your audiences’s interest in what you have to say abruptly and permanently ends. And whatever you do, do not step across those lines.

Because, whoever you are, politician, priest, or professor, one thing remains true. Unless you are a magnificent singer or a brilliant genius, people are almost always grateful and appreciative when you finally sit down and shut up.

Thank you very much.”

Do you think I can get away with that?

Sincerely,

Fully Gown Man

I told Gown Man he should not, under any circumstances, give that speech. Condescension and self deprecation are never as enlightening or entertaining as you think they will be.

People expect an uplifting message at graduation. It should be about the graduates and not about you. And yes, it should be presented in as few words as possible. If you truly know your audience, you will give them what they want, but prioritize.

“Uplifting” is job number one.
“About them” is job number two.
And “few words” is job number three.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

A request and a couple of curiosities today:

First, I’m planning to take a week off June 4th through the 9th, so a selection of guests posts would be much appreciated to keep Trail Baboon fresh each day. Many thanks to Clyde, Steve, Jim, and Barbara in Robbinsdale, who have offered spontaneous guest blogs over the past few weeks and months. If you have an idea for the week of June 4th, please send me a note at connelly.dale@gmail.com.

Clyde sent this eclipse photo, relayed by his son in San Francisco.

It makes me think of raised eyebrows, a facial reaction it must be a tough to elicit in the world wise and libertine city by the bay.

But raised eyebrows is just one person’s reaction. Maybe this spray of crescent shapes makes you think of Paul Bunyan’s fingernail clippings, or eye-less smiley faces.

Perhaps they’re smiling about this: A man got picked up for drunk driving after leaving an Iowa bar when they refused to serve him alongside his two companions – a zebra and a parrot. The man, Jerald Reiter, thought he could bring his pals into the establishment because he recalled seeing animals in there before. The bar is called “The Dog House.”

Reiter told the Des Moines Register he’d had three mixed drinks at home with his dinner. He wanted to get away from his farm because he hadn’t left for several months. “I’ve been planting corn and everything else,’” he said. “So I opened the door, the zebra jumps in, the macaw loves to go for a ride, so we went for a ride.”

What could be more normal? In rural Iowa, I believe getting tipsy and piling into the car with your zebra and your parrot is known as putting on your “Poor Man’s Zubaz“.

What do you like to wear for a night on the town?

Today is the anniversary of the dedication of the main branch of the New York Public Library, a landmark which was officially opened on May 23, 1911. This is the iconic library building on 5th Avenue, with an entrance guarded by two stone lions (Patience and Fortitude) and a grand reading room that is a wonder to behold.

“Photo by DAVID ILIFF. License: CC-BY-SA 3.0”

The room is 77 feet wide and 295 feet long – longer than a Boeing 747 and able to take people more places. It is a shrine to knowledge, a temple of learning, and is lined with thousands of books – exactly the type of place where it would be impossible for me to read a book.

As a child, teenager and even as an adult, I am almost unengrossable. Oh, I love to read, but no matter what I’m doing,  my head keeps lifting up to gaze around the room.  It takes me twice as long as most people to read a book because of all the necessary daydreaming that has to happen at the end of chapters, after significant paragraphs, and often in between words.

The New York Public Library is magnificent.  But if you’re building a reading room, give me something with the grandeur removed –  a shabby closet, some pillows and a desk lamp.

Any place without a lot of stuff to look at.

Where do you go to read?