THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 28, 1996 TAG: 9604240030
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: He Said, She Said
SOURCE: Kerry Dougherty & Dave Addis
LENGTH: Long : 102 lines
DAVE SAYS:
I'm really disappointed, Kerry. Here it is, the end of April, graduation is just around the corner, and not one high school or college has asked us to give a commencement speech.
I could understand it last year, when we were new at handing out free advice. This year I thought we'd be a shoo-in.
Thus, thousands of impressionable young people are going to miss the sort of useful, real-world advice that only couple of beaten-up middle-agers like us can give them. Instead, they're going to have to suffer through all those greasy cliches about how ``your lives are just beginning,'' and how ``the doors are opening for you to a whole world of new possibilities.''
Pardon my French, but what a load of gar-bage'. Half the kids will be asleep by then. The other half will be awake because they've stashed a Walkman under their gown and have it pegged at full-throttle to JAMZ-103.
I know this is true because I'm heading for my kid's third commencement speech in the past eight years. High school. College. Law school. Each got progressively more expensive. Each speech gets progressively more absurd.
Here's what all graduates should be told:
Starting today, your mother will no longer be there to separate the socks from the grilled-cheese-sandwich crusts under your bed. And if you marry somebody in the hope of replacing your mother, you will experience pain like you've never felt before.
Many of the bosses you will have in your life should be chained to a basement wall someplace. They became interested in power because they did not understand art. They will take credit for inspiring your best work, they will say ``I warned him'' when you stumble, and they will hold you responsible for their failings. Be gentle and understanding with such people. Compliment them on their ability to match their ties and pocket squares. Devoid of all irony, they will smile and thank you.
The government has been good to you so far. This is about to end. Things you did as a juvenile are no longer cute. They have a new name, and it is ``felony.'' Some of you accepted a lot of money from the government to pay for your education. This was not an allowance, it was a loan. They want it back now. With interest. And, unlike your dad, they will not accept ``But I need that money for some new CDs'' as an excuse.
This is not to say that adulthood is a nightmare, or that all your fun is over. Awesome opportunities await you out there, the chances for great joy and adventure. But you will no longer prosper just by showing up. Nothing will come your way if you're happy to just sit in a chair and listen to somebody lecture you about how you should live your life.
And you know what, Kerry? I'd have the greatest of hopes for that one kid in a million who would, at that very point, recognize the cue and stand up and march right out of the hall.
That's the one who's really ready for the big bad world.
KERRY SAYS:
You're right, Dave, not even Nails University - where they teach the fine art of French manicures - has seen fit to invite us as commencement speakers this year.
I think I know the reason: you. Perhaps some commencement speaker scout was cruising through the newsroom the day you were lamenting you ``never see a good goiter'' anymore.
If only one of them had listened to the kind of sage advice I usually give young colleagues (like the young reporters getting married last Dec. 30: ``Are you two insane? You'll pay the marriage tax for the whole year. Wait a week!'') we would have gotten a gig.
My commencement speech - which is already typed on little 3-by-5 cards - concerns the elusive quest for happiness. Especially for women grads.
I would tell these young women to be cautious when they enter into relationships. Never to allow a man to treat you worse than he treats his pets.
Another thing I might expound on is my theory on the volatility of men without sisters. This is it in a nutshell: I would advise women in love with a man who has only brothers that it's not going to be any bed of roses.
Think about it: These guys have never lived with a woman other than their mothers. They have never ridden that thrilling roller-coaster ride called living with a sister going through that raging hormonal nightmare of puberty. They have never had to fight their way into the shower through a forest of damp pantyhose, never watched a sister cry away a broken heart.
I speak from experience. I married a guy with two brothers and no sisters who has spent the last eight years asking of his wife and daughter ``What's going on around here?''
A man with sisters would be better prepared.
But I digress.
On a serious note, if I could offer one word of advice to graduates it would be: forgiveness. Forgive your parents for whatever wacked out things they did to you growing up. Stop blaming them every time you lose a job, gain a pound or commit a crime.
Forgive those you love. Nurturing grudges eats at your soul.
Forgive yourself. It's OK to be human.
Remember, saints might be nice to study, but you wouldn't really want to live with one.
Or write a column with one, either.
Better luck next year, Dave. MEMO: Kerry Dougherty can be reached at 446-2306, and via e-mail at
kerryd(at)norfolk.infi.net. Dave Addis can be reached at 446-2588, and
addis(at)worldnet.att.net by CNB