1) The child. That child in the lace-and-satin gown and with two cowlicks, like some twice-blessed prince, and wearing the haughtiest expression I have ever seen on a six-week old? The one I call “Buster” because he is such a one?
He got a C+ in the must-pass class, and a couple of A’s and B’s besides. School is finally out. For. Ever.
There will be no grad school This child has been itching to be out of school since he was six years old. Our long national nightmare is over. Those bells and sirens you hear are an all-clear. It is safe, to resume life. Don’t pick up any debris, even if its pretty. There may still be some residual radioactivity!
2) I will subsequently be out of here on Friday as we travel because there will be, finally, pomping and circumstancing!
3) The real unemployment rate for college grads with a lithe-but-booming bass-baritone and an interest in making music a career in the areas of either performance and production is somewhere in the neighborhood of 98%. With luck, there will be bartending and church-custodianing as the muse is followed. And our empty nest will probably be shared for at least a year. It’s okay.
4) I am really, really, enjoying Jonah Goldberg’s new book. It’s wonderfully entertaining, well-researched with historical tid-bits that are not too many, not too few, and he spends a surprising amount of time quoting Mr. Chesterton. Insomniac last night, I finally read enough to say “hell, yes, I recommend it. Highly.” I will likely be finishing it on the road. To the kid’s graduation.
Like life — everything in stages.