Nostalgia for commencements of yore.

Actually, I’m not sure if I’m allowed to invoke “yore” for events that happened within the last five year. If there’s an appropriately qualified language- or measurement-geek who’d like to make a ruling I’d be much obliged.

Anyway, my fair university had its commencement ceremony this past Saturday.

It had many of the features we’ve come to expect — faculty adorned in funny regalia, graduates in rented caps and gowns (some with amusing messages on their mortarboards or sporting leis made of candy or dollar bills), a confusion of lines on the procession into the stadium, sun beating down on us all during the addresses from the podium, proud family and friends in the stands (some with large signs or vuvuzelas).

But there was a conspicuous absence of one of the commencement regulars — the beach ball.

As recently as last year, there were probably half a dozen beach balls in play above the graduates at various points in the commencement ceremony. This year, as far as I could tell, there were none.

However, one of the graduates did inflate a condom, which was batted around for a short while. From the accretion of schmutz on it by the time it fell into the hands of a faculty marshal, it was lubricated.

Kids today …

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Posted in Academia, Passing thoughts.

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