So, I kinda thought we were done with such things. For a couple decades, anyway.

But I guess not.

This afternoon found us at yet another graduation party. A beautiful day for an outdoor barbeque surrounded by balloons, picnic tables, cottonwoods, and scrambling kids.

And a prison.

High points of the party? Meeting the grandmother from Ohio who, after sharing a literally all night drive from DIA with eldest son, seems to be quite taken with him.

Speaking of eldest son, his special gift to one of the graduates... he shaved.

And the young corgi, who has been feeling a little puny, when needing a break from harassment by the older pom and huge shepard ran...

Not to her owner.

Not to her boy, our eldest son.

Ran not to some low cubbyhole for protection.

No, she ran to us, and took shelter between our legs.

The graduation?

Well, about like the others we've attended.

The graduates marched in two by two. With the crowd breaking into laughter as two young men near the end came in hand-in-hand, arms aswingin'.

In what I considered an unusual move, the Principal called for respectful decorum for this serious occasion.

In response, a couple dozen superballs came gently lobbing out of the red-robed crowd to bounce over his head and scatter throughout the gymnasium.

"And so much for 'respectful'" he ended his speech with humorous resignation.

The graduate we had come to honor gave the final speech of the ceremony, ending with the instruction for her classmates to switch their tassles from right to left. Which was followed by the anticipated drop of the ballons from the ceiling.

And then the real graduation ritual began.

The disorganized mingling of graduates, family, faculty and friends in a melee of hugs and camera flashes. It has taken me several of these events to realize that this is the real graduation.

The Pomp and Circumstance (literally) rituals that preceed it are just, well, pomp and circumstance.

The real farewell to one stage of life and commencement into the new is occurring there, in that mingled mass of humanity.

One final note:

Our school has somehow developed a tradition whereby graduates, when individually stepping forward to shake hands with the principle and vice-principle, will pass some sort of surprise into the administrator's hand.

You should understand both men were prepared enough to bring plastic bags for holding whatever goodies they would receive in these hand-offs.

They just don't know what they will find in their palms each year.

This year it was gummy worms.

And a few live ones.

( 2 comments on this entry )