Home run

With the passing of another academic year, tomorrow high school seniors take their first steps into a world of wonder and promise, tinged with traces of uncertainty and a splash of danger. Recent world events have proved that no matter how much policy makers believe they understand players in the global political theater, those in charge might overlook the possibility of a third act plot deviation. Twas always this way, me thinks.

But of these soon to be former students, I can remember my high school graduation, not like it was yesterday, but rather like it was a lifetime ago. I would hardly recognize the person in the white suit jacket and tie now as myself. Pictures are not going to jog the memory, since many of the pictures from that era disappeared in a curious theft years ago.

Curious because the thief–or perhaps thieves, sometimes it takes a village–passed over framed Ansel Adams prints and jewelry settled upon a Jerry Garcia styled Build-A-Bear and my yearbooks. Maybe the pawn shop paid sentimental value. Probably not.

So who really knows what I really looked like in that fateful period. Really, it no longer matters. What matters is the day came and went, and all the experiences since that moment and most especially those to come.

There’s a pretty amazing world out there, and lots waiting for these graduates as they learn about themselves and the people they really care about: The cast of Jon and Kate and Project Runway.

And should the flames peeking through the open keyhole of their future make the doorknob to hot for handling just now, they can immerse themselves in college for the next four to seven years.

Hey, it beats working.

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