THE UNDERCOVER GRADUATE

When I earned my degree from Oakland University, I had them mail it to me. It sat in my desk drawer at home for well over a year before my parents even realized my accomplishment. Something about taking 7 ½ years to get a 4-year degree didn’t seem all that spectacular. Besides, when my dad entered my room with his “Failure to Launch” speech, wondering when I would finish my college education, I nonchalantly told him, “I’m done.” He seemed confused to say the least. I guess maybe he thought I had temporarily quit again. I explained, “Dad, remember how you told me I could live at home rent free as long as I stayed in school? Well I figured if I told you I had a degree then it would cut into my beer money.” He still didn’t believe a word I had said, so I showed him the piece of paper as proof. The look of disbelief on his face is hard to describe.

Soon after I moved out.

On the other hand, my high school graduation was entirely different. One keg party after another—a summer long celebration. I guess I was practicing for the beer bashes I’d encounter in college. I enrolled in night classes so I could continue my ways at the local watering holes, something called "College Night". Perhaps my freedom kept me from enjoying what I had earned. I certainly kept busy during those days. My only regret—that I’m not having a 25-year high school reunion this summer. Or maybe, like my 20th, I didn’t get invited.