April is nearly over, which means that May is just around the corner. As a matter of correctness, we should treat all months equally, and, if we do, June and July must also be around corners. This is why the Greek geometer Euclid lived 200 years: Time flies when the time-space continuum is made up of four corners. This means it’s time to talk to graduating seniors once again. The message this year is simple: All those things you never had the guts to do when you were under 125 credit hours? Now is the time-space to do them. Here are five gutsy things to do while you’re still in Thibodaux:
Park in a Faculty Spot. Once you’ve pressed your sandals into the rotting leaf litter that dries along the curb en route to the drains, you’ll never go back to the nice, newly resurfaced parking lot near your real classroom.
Return an Overdue Library Book. For seniors who’ve never done this before: You must check out a book this week if you’re ever going to make it overdue! Check out the oldest and smelliest book you can find and keep it long enough to get an invoice for a replacement copy. You’ll discover that unlike cars, computers, and Ph.D.’s, library books really don’t depreciate in value over time. And when you sign for this book, be wary of librarians murmuring: “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!”
Answer the McDonald’s Drive-Up Cyborg. After graduation, you’ll stop eating fast food because (1) you’ll elevate to more elegant eating with the status of your new career, (2) you won’t be able to afford eating because you have no career, or (3) your doctor says you’ll die before your new career if you continue to eat such things. So, now’s your last chance to give that “Hi, Welcome to McDonald’s” voice a piece of your own, college-expanded mind. Try one of these retorts next time you hear, “What can I make for you today?”:
“Make me a Big Buford.”
“Make love not war.”
“Make me a channel of your peace.”
“Make me believe you’re a real person.”
“Make me worthy of the great DiMaggio who does all things perfectly even with the pain of the bone spur in his heal.”
Read a novel. You don’t have much time before graduation, so choose something brief, like “The Old Man and the Sea.” Read that, and you won’t have to pretend that that DiMaggio line is funny.
Sit on the Dock of the Bay(ou), the famous dock of the pirogue races to be precise. Of course, there’s no tide to watch roll away, but there’s no space to be wasting time, either. Do this especially if you’re an out-of-state student from Charlotte, or Indianapolis, or Amarillo, or Tampico, or Havana, because that means you’ve have roamed 2000 miles just to make that Nicholls dock your home.
Graduation caps also have four corners, and the corners of graduation caps are around the corner as well. Does this imply that the space-time continuum has a tassel? Yes, it’s called a “comet.” And when it’s diploma time on May 19th to orbit that comet across your big head full of new knowledge, make sure it orbits left to right. Get it right, seniors: You may never be the center of the known universe ever again.
