There is no chance in Hell I’m walking at an 8 a.m. Commencement.
In fact, I didn’t even know when graduation ceremonies are held — until my half-crazed mother quizzed me yesterday about why I haven’t made a reservation for dinner yet, and if I was sure that I get six tickets for graduation.
No, Mom, I’m not sure. You’re the one who told me that.
I’m actually being kind of hard on my mom. She’s not that crazy — at least not all the time — and she’s been pretty good about laying off the graduation talk. Just pretty please, don’t tell her I said that.
To be honest, I couldn’t give two shits about a graduation ceremony. I can barely sit through an hour-long class without getting antsy. And those are the ones I’m interested in.
A lengthy Commencement complete with speeches from my fellow students and distinguished professors, no matter how inspirational or well-presented, doesn’t exactly sound like the ideal way to cap off my four years here at Binghamton University.
But alas, I, like so many of you graduating seniors out there, will have to endure the pain and humiliation of taking photo after photo in a cap and gown (that makes your head look like a misshapen sweaty beach ball), featuring a reluctant smile in order to avoid looking like a complete buffoon. And my family is going to eat it up.
While the pomp and circumstance is what is going to delight our audience during this milestone event, we seniors can, and should, do other things to celebrate the end. As if never having to look at your DARS ever again doesn’t make you happy?
Embrace the finale. Go to trivia on Wednesday night and Sunday-Funday so hard that you wake up on Monday feeling like you just walked out of Mug Night. And for that matter, exclusively order Long Island Iced Teas — those are the biggest bang for your buck, after all.
Ladies and gents, we’re past the seventh inning stretch. The storm has calmed to a steady drizzle and the sun will be shining before you even know it. And that’s because you won’t be in Binghamton anymore.
Well, I suppose some of you will be. Graduate school is the next frontier for so many of us (who pretend they know what they’re going to do in life) and Binghamton remains a competitive contender for an education beyond the undergraduate. Whatever it is that the future holds for you, don’t get there too fast.
It may be time for (most of) us to leave, but a graduation ceremony isn’t the only way to celebrate your departure. Do something kind of stupid, and when your friends get mad at you, I promise I’ll take the blame for providing you with this wayward advice.
And even though I’d rather do one last keg stand than show my face at the Events Center on that dreaded day, I suppose it’s the least I can do. After all the support my family has given me and all the grief I’ve given them, it’s only fair that they’re allowed to see me earn my diploma from the University that provided me with the education, life experience and outrageous and remarkable friends that made me decide I never want to live in my parents’ house ever again.
Plus they paid.