Educational Journeys

JENN McKINLAY: Hooligan 1 graduated from Arizona State University yesterday and the Hub and I could not be prouder, obviously. It's a particularly poignant achievement because H1 was not a natural born academic. 

Proof? In fifth grade I was called to a parent-teacher conference because my darling boy would frequently just get up and leave the classroom when he was bored. To say that I did not see him graduating Magna Cum Laude twelve years later is a vast understatement (not bragging, I swear, we were so surprised)!

This got me to thinking about how we all change (or not) during our academic years. In elementary school, I was one of the top students and had an absolute fit when I got a B-. 

By middle school, I had become a social butterfly and school was just a means to see my friends.

High school? Maintained the grades just enough to not get in called out. B's get degrees! 

College? The first two years were spent on alcohol fueled shenanigans (endless shenanigans--some of which required community service in the dorm). The final two years, I found my major, locked in, and graduated on time by the skin of my teeth (and a lot of summer school).

So, how about you, Reds and Readers? What was your academic journey like? Stellar student? Hated school? A little bit of both? 

Final note: I was unfamiliar with the ritual of the Stole of Gratitude (we didn't have that in 1989), so when H1 presented me with his Stole of Gratitude as the person who has supported him the most during his academic journey, well, my heart was full, y'all, and, yeah, I cried but just a little. 

Graduating into a New Life

Calling all readers! Thursday, we're featuring Pets on Parade, so please send your pet photos in to JuliaSpencerFleming at Gmail dot com! 

 

 

 

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: If it’s May, there must be a graduation in the Hugo-Vidal family, right? And you are right, dear readers - we are all gathered in Norfolk, VA to celebrate Veronique’s graduation (and pinning) as a Respiratory Therapist. I am SO proud of her. Veronique worked for several years after getting her BA from the University of Virginia, but like a lot of liberal-arts-educated millennials, she wasn’t seeing much in the way of income or advancement. 

She was always interested in health care, though, and I remember when she first told me her idea about becoming an RT. We were walking on a sandy beach during one of her visits in Maine, and she laid out a whole plan, including how to finance it. I was impressed because unlike the rest of the family (which tends to be disorganized, dramatic and/or too idealistic for our own good) Veronique had analyzed which health care job had the best return on investment. Needless to say, this was not something Ross or I did when deciding to become a full time writer and a special ed teacher, respectively.

It’s been a grueling two years for her - she spent the first summer after getting into the competitive program catching up on biology and chemistry courses she hadn’t taken at UVA. From then it was four semesters and another summer of full-time classes plus practicum: the students were rotated through six different hospitals in the area to experience all the areas where RTs might be called. Keep in mind, this was during the second year of Covid.

Every time I called or Facetimed with Spencer, Veronique would pop in, say, “Hi, mom!” and then vanish back into her home office, where she studied at night. Every. Night. It’s one thing to fling yourself into degree work when you’re a kid; it’s another thing entirely to quit a job and take on grinding degree work at thirty. That, I’ve told her, is the most impressive accomplishment of all: to risk leaving what’s not working and reinventing yourself - in her case, first as a full-time student and now as a skilled medical professional!

Reds, I hope you’ll join me in congratulating Veronique. What’s a time when you took a risk to reinvent yourself?

LUCY BURDETTE: Congratulations to Veronique–what an accomplishment! Our nephew is graduating from a residency program in emergency medicine–so grueling! This is the same program our daughter attended so we know first hand how hard they have to work!

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Congratulations to Veronique! Do tell her she has many cheers from all the Reds! It must have taken such courage to reinvent herself, and in such a demanding profession.

I suppose I reinvented myself when (with a history as a chronically bad student and already a couple of years older than my classmates) I enrolled in a hard but wonderful college as a sophomore and earned a degree in biology. Quite a few years later I reinvented myself again when I made up my mind to write a novel. I’ve never regretted either decision and I wish the same for Veronique.

 

RHYS BOWEN: Adding my congratulations for Veronique. Well done! My daughter Anne went through a similar reinventing a few years ago when she decided to leave her job in the advertising industry and become a psycho-therapist. Three very intense years of study and now she’s a qualified therapist working with at-risk children. I’m naturally very proud.

I don’t think I’ve ever re-invented myself. It was always a natural progression from college newspaper to BBC to writing screenplays to books. I guess I must enjoy it!

HALLIE EPHRON: BIG congrats to Veronique! And what a great career path (and job opportunities!) she has ahead of her.

I’ve always been a “keep a foot on the boat and a foot on the dock” kind of risk taker. So when I started writing (aka learning to write) when my youngest went to college and I had a room to write in and time to do it. I worked part time for years getting better, working freelance so I could keep our fiances in good shape and manage the time. Which explains why it took me 10 years to go from thinking I’d like to write to having a book accepted by an agent. For many more years I kept writing freelance on the side. No leaps for me.

JENN McKINLAY: Congratulations, Veronique!!! That is fantastic! And how very smart to make the shift when you did. I made a life change up when I was 25. I moved cross country from CT to AZ to pursue being a writer in a cheaper part of the country where i could actually afford to love working part-time. It took longer than I thought but I think I might have made it finally. Kind of wish I'd thought of being an RT first...

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: This is so inspirational! Hurray, Veronique! Brilliant. Oh, gosh, I feel as if I reinvent every day. But I guess it was in 1970. With absolutely no plans or career path, I thought--okay, all I want to do it change the world. How can I do that? Maybe I'll be a reporter. And naive me marched in the biggest station in Indianapolis, with zero experience, and somehow got a job as a radio reporter. I always think: I took a HUGE chance--and so did he radio station, right?--and somehow I found my calling. I did it for more than 3 decades. And then, I had an idea for a book.

 

JULIA: How about you, dear readers? Have you or someone you know taken the leap into a new life? 

Pomp and Circumstance by Jenn McKinlay

 JENN McKINLAY: When I dropped Hooligan 2 off at Kindergarten way back in 2008, I had no idea the next thirteen years would whip by at the speed of light. H2 was a little league playing, skateboard riding, Avatar (the cartoon)-loving scamp and I swear I blinked -- for a nanosecond -- and now he’s taller than me, is bi-literate (Eng/Span), and a complete gym rat fitness nut -- no, we have no idea where he came from. Thankfully, he gets to have an actual graduation ceremony with limited seating -- unlike the poor graduates last year -- so Hub and I will be in the stadium bleachers this Thursday night to clap and cheer as he strides across the stage to get his diploma like his brother did two years ago. 

The graduation ceremony hasn’t changed much since I received my diploma -- many, many years ago. It’s the same awkward shuffle march to Pomp and Circumstance, it’s hot, the seats are hard, a baby is always crying, the speeches are long, and your hands get tired of clapping after graduate one hundred and one, still, you soldier on because it’s a magical moment. There is something about witnessing the turning of the tassel, as the students move it from right to left that gets me every time. Seriously, it’s a sob fest.

As for my own graduation, I remember being so thrilled to be an adult -- finally! I think I thought I’d wake up the next day a completely different person. I did not. Instead, I nursed a mild hangover (no, I was not of age) while I put on my fabulous polyester uniform and headed to my part-time gig at  Friendly’s to dish ice cream to rambunctious grade schoolers while chatting with my friends. Still, I was a graduate and that felt pretty amazing. College was months away and we had a whole summer to be free. Kind of wish I could relive that summer all over again, you know? 

Jenn (center) with Diane (L) and Cindy (R).

How about you Reds? What are your special (or not) memories of high school graduation?   

LUCY BURDETTE: Jenn, congrats to you and your hub for raising such interesting young men! I don’t remember a lot of detail about my high school graduation, except for the singing. This was the peak of my musical career, singing with the prestigious high school chorale. (I am what’s called a ‘leaning alto’, meaning don’t even think about asking me to sing in a quartet or as a solo. I think I was included based on personality and persistence.) We had bonded so closely and it was definitely bittersweet to be saying goodbye. Picture is of me with our chorale director, Al Dorhout. We adored him!

Lucy with Mr. Dorhout

JENN: Mr. D. had righteous sideburns, Lucy!

HALLIE EPHRON: I remember… just about nothing at all. What I wore, yes - but only because I have a picture of me and my mother after. The photo my parents took from their seats of me, supposedly walking across to get my diploma, are basically of the backs of the heads of people sitting in front of them. Who spoke? No idea. I was so ready to be on a plane out of there, on to another coast and a start-over-from-scratch with new friends in a big city. 

Hallie's graduation

JENN: Hallie you look beautiful! So classy!

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Oops, I didn't graduate from high school. I dropped out at sixteen, eventually got my GED, went to college(s). So no cap and gown, no prom. I did graduate from college however, and I mostly remember how hot it was that day--the ceremony was outside--and I was sweltering under the gown. I have no idea who spoke. My hair was really short and in the photos my shoes looked ridiculously clunky. But even that graduation was almost a year after I'd actually finished my degree in the summer, so I didn't even get to graduate with my classmates.  But I had been to England for the first time the previous September, and all I could think about was getting back and traveling as much as I could on my own. I had already moved on. 

JENN: You are a force of nature, Debs! I love it!

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Oh, yikes I have no memory of this. Except  for one. (Backstory: I had spent much of my senior year in Germany, and did NOT want to come home, and my mother forced me to return for the last semester of senior year. I was not in the flow, not at all, so there was no camaraderie or sentimentality about it. I just wanted it all to be over so I could be in the world and do real things.)  

Anyway.  School was over and classes were over, or course, done and  dusted. I had gotten a great dress for the ceremony--right out of Carnaby Street. A white lace mini-dress.  With white lace stockings and chunky shoes.

I loved it. (I probably looked like a big walking doily, but in my mind was Jean Shrimpton.)  So I showed up at the gym for the ceremony (Were my parents there? They must have been.) 

And the vice-principal took me aside and said “You have to go home and change. That skirt is too short.”

And I said: “What’re you going to do, expel me?”

He told me to put on the graduation gown and not take it off.

And that’s all I remember. So sad that there are no photos. But maybe it’s for the best.

Jean Shrimption shocks the world with hem four inches above the knee!
I can totally see our Hank looking just like this. Fabulous!

RHYS BOWEN:  Hank, you were as feisty as I was! But we had no graduation in England. We had prize day at which some of us got awards. But I do remember my college graduation—diploma presented by the Queen Mum and highlight of the day was that she recognized my dad. He exhibited every year at the British industries fair and the royals always came for a preview and chatted. She saw him as she walked down the aisle and gave him a big smile. Made his day!

JENN: Diploma from the Queen Mum! I'm gobsmacked!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Honestly, all my best graduations have been my kids' graduations. Here's what I recall from mine:

High school. Hot. We were seated alphabetically and I didn't know anyone around me (it was a class of about 450.) Gift: Electric typewriter with an erase cartridge so I didn't have to use Wite Out! Aw, yisss.

College: Hot. Raining, so we relocated into the gym, which smelled bad. Gift: Small black and white portable TV. Cool.

Grad school: Didn't go.

Law school: Hot. Beautiful setting, in the oldest church in Portland, ME, First Parish UU. Gift: Ross and I went out to dinner.

My kids' graduations were much better, because I didn't have to wear an uncomfortable polyester robe, I got to sit with people I knew, and, unlike when I was marching, I get hopelessly weepy the moment I hear the strains of Elgar's tune. When I was graduating (and it's true, I maybe overdid it) the ceremony was kind of a speed bump on my way to something bigger and better (or, in the case of law school, a summer cramming for the bar exam.) By the time I got to see my children graduate, I was old enough to really appreciate these moments that hinge yesterday and tomorrow in our lives.

JENN: I agree, Julia! The boys' graduations have been my faves, this is assuming Hooligan 2 doesn't burst into flames during finals this week and not graduate. Both my dudes are photo-finish graduates so the suspense has been INTENSE! Friday, I plan to nap! LOL.

What about you, Readers? What do you remember of your high school graduation?

How different are you from where you began? by Jenn McKinlay

FIRST THINGS FIRST: Our winner for Jill Orr's giveaway copy of The Good Byline is Karen from Ohio! Email your address to jennmck at yahoo dot com and I'll forward your info to Jill. Congrats!

Jenn McKinlay: So, Hooligan 1 graduated the other night. It was a pretty big deal, mostly, because it was a photo finish as we do love the drama in this house! I'm not sure if my tears were more excitement and pride or straight up relief. Probably, a bit of both.

The Graduate and his squad!

I asked Hooligan 1 if it was okay for me to blog about his scholastic journey, and I'm putting it on the record that he gave me his consent. Okay, it was really more of an "I don't care". Close enough! I've always tried to respect the hooligans' privacy. I cringe when I see parents offering up their kids' lives for public consumption, because it feels wrong to invade their personal lives, especially during the teen years, but that's a whole other blog post. For this one, I have permission, so here it is.

Hooligan 1 came into the world reluctantly (i.e. a vacuum was employed) and he stayed pretty self contained (shy) until his comrade in arms arrived a year and half later, yes, that would be Hooligan 2! Insta best friends, who shared a room and lived in each other's hip pockets, their bond was unbreakable. This worked well for H1, as H2 did most of the talking for both of them, right up until it was time to start school. I can remember walking H1 to preschool, trying to sell him on the idea, saying, "It's gonna be so great, you're going to make friends--" My precocious three year old looked at me and said, "I don't need friends, I have Brother." Oh, boy.

                            Hooligan Bruhs!






H1 did not make friends easily. Because he had Brother, he didn't feel the need. Leaving H2 in preschool to go to elementary school  and be on his own was so traumatic, H1 taped a picture of me to the inside of his lunch box. No, not kidding. The days were long and H1 spent a lot of time on the side of the playground, looking for a friend and feeling lonely. It was tough for us all. When Brother joined him at school, it became easier. 

Thankfully, during the middle years, H1 slowly became more social. Friends came and went and came and went until a squad was finally formed. The same squad that would carry him through, since he and Brother were once again parted, as H1 moved on to high school. His academics resembled my own. Entertaining teachers were his favorites and he aced those classes. Boring teachers, well, it was a struggle. But the kid who'd always been quiet and introverted, sustained by his overabundance of imagination, slowly started to open up, going after what he wanted and learning how to bounce back up after a fail. It was a remarkable thing to watch but still he kept to himself and was fairly guarded unless with trusted friends.

Giving his final speech - like a boss!

And then the end of high school came into view, and the teen who'd always been a bit aloof, signed up for a live news class. The shell cracked wide open! A passion for film making was discovered and suddenly, his big head was popping up on the white board as he anchored the daily news. If someone could have told my poor mama heart that the lonely first grader who had no words would bloom into such a talking head twelfth grader, well, it would have spared me a truck load of angst. 

He has given me much to ponder. Up until now, I'd always believed that people don't really change that much in life, and I've always dealt with my characters this way. A quiet child was a self contained adult, a mean toddler was a nasty grownup, etc. I figured nurturing smoothed out the rough edges, but nature was the defining factor of a person's core personality (I say this as a person who has always been an extreme extrovert and can't imagine being any other way.) Who we are from the start is essentially who we'll always be, right? Right?! Erm...maybe not. After watching H1's metamorphosis -- seriously, a chrysalis to a butterfly -- I have to say, I'm rethinking. 

So, tell me Reds and Readers, are you pretty much who you were as a kid or have you changed significantly over the years?

A Week in the Life of the Family Hugo-Vidal

Julia Spencer-Fleming: The Family Hugo-Vidal being my own, of course; the Smithie a/k/a The Maine Millenniel, The Sailor (formerly known as The Boy) and this week's star, Youngest.

We started the week with an unexpected column from the Maine Millennial:

Oh, yes, this was a surprise to me. Not my daughter's issues with alcohol - we had plenty of discussions about that - and not that she had reached the point where, as she said, "I just don't want to do that to myself anymore." The part where she also told the entire state of Maine (and anyone reading along on the internet)? That was pure Smithie. I did try to raise her to be open and honest. VERY open and VERY honest. 

Next on the agenda... you can all guess from this picture!

Yes, that's Youngest, a proud graduate of Gorham High School's class of '18. Those are false eyelashes, if you're wondering. After her friend did her make-up, I was informed this was a "beat face." Picture me rolling my (non-beat) middle-aged eyes.

Can you spot her? Me, neither.

Here's the big moment. It feels like such an accomplishment for both of us - there were times I didn't think we'd get through the past two years. Of course,  I was a water fountain. Thank God I brought a big handkerchief. Then it was outside for pics with friends,

Family - that's the Sailor, who drove all the way up from Norfolk on a three-day leave to cheer his sister on while wearing a kilt,

And friends and family together! (The young man is the Very Tall Boyfriend, who is cohabitating with the Smithie. Not a great picture of him, I'm afraid, but I look good, and it's my blog.)

Then, just two days later, it was primary day in Maine. Youngest has been interning for the Cote for Governor campaign, and because she will be eighteen by the November election, she got to cast a ballot for the very first time. She later told me she was more excited about exercising her franchise than she was about graduating! (Although she didn't get any presents for voting.)

Finally, to wrap things up, she marched with the rest of the campaign staff at Saturday's Pride march. It was a beautiful day in Portland - just about as bright and hopeful as Youngest's future.

I didn't even get to tell  you about my brother visiting with his wife and adorable son, or the spontaneous post-grad BBQ held by dear friends, or me picking Youngest up at 5am after Project Graduation (yawn!) or Youngest helping coordinate responses to challenges for seventeen-year-olds voting (via text, of course)... but enough about me and my fabulous kids. Tell me about some fabulous kids you know, dear readers!

Graduation Weekend Cocktail: Pimm's No. 1 Cup

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: To me, there's only one cocktail for summer events that involve walking about on a manicured lawn in a pretty dress: Pimm's No. 1 Cup. I'm going to quote Britishfood.com here: 

 Pimm's originated in an Oyster Bar in Poultry Street, in the City of London, owned by James Pimm in 1840. Here he created the Pimm's 'house Cup' flavoured with liqueurs, and fruit extracts. He rapidly built up a chain of restaurants in a variety of locations, including The Old Bailey and other places "to be seen" for City businessmen of the day. James Pimm is said to have blended his famous 'No 1 Cup', on the premises and it was then sold in pints in pewter tankards. 

By 1859, Pimm's was on sale outside of the restaurants and in 1865, the company was sold to Frederick Sawyer and the first bottle of Pimm's was sold for 3 shillings. The company was sold on again in 1875, this time to Sir Horatio Davies, who in the following years expanded the sale of the drink. It could be found not only the UK, but also throughout the British Empire and the association of the drink with all things British began. 

 The No 1 cup is as popular today as ever. The first Pimm's bar opened at the world-famous Wimbledon tennis tournament in 1971, and every year over 80,000 pints of Pimm's with Lemonade are sold to spectators. 

How to make this traditional treat? 

1. One part Pimm's No. 1 Cup to three parts lemonade over ice (though I've had some very nice Pimm's where the drink has been shaken with ice and served neat.) 

2. Add fresh mint and thin slices of cucumber. Those are the must-haves; you can also include combinations of orange slices, lemon, apples or strawberries. (See? It's not just drink, it's part of the RDA of fruits and vegetables!) 

3. Be careful not to spill if you wore heels to stand on the lawn. We're going to be looking for Pimm's Cup after the graduation luncheon tomorrow!

Pomp and Circumstance

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: As you're reading this, I'm in Northampton, Mass., waiting to see if the traditional Smith Ivy Day procession is going to take place in the Quadrangle, or in the Athletic Center (we're expecting heavy rain.) Tomorrow, Commencement Day, the sun is expected to shine, and we'll get to watch our daughter, along with 672 other young women - and a few men(1) - complete her four year journey. I think I'm getting weepy already. It seems like just yesterday she was graduating from her Catholic high school - unfortunately, she can't just recycle the white dress and robe from 2010 (above.)

Of course, we're not the only ones waiting to hear Elgar start playing. All over America, the Class of 2014 will be marching into high school auditoriums and civic centers and Alumni Halls and stadia. Parents will sniffle, the class clown will stand up and bow, mortar boards will be tossed in the air, and the young people will be ushered out of one stage of life and into another.

I have graduated three times and I don't remember very much about any of the commencements. I recall it was beastly hot at the Syracuse Civic Center when Liverpool High's Class of '79 passed through. Our salutatorian quoted the Grateful Dead. The commencement speaker for Ithaca College's Class of '83 was Isaac Asimov, and despite the fact I love his writing, I don't remember a single word he said. My parents were stuck way up in the back of the gym, as Athletic Centers were known in the early 80s. My mom told me it smelled faintly of urine and old socks, something I'm sure is not so in Athletic Centers. When I graduated from the University of Maine School of Law in 1990, we sat in the lovely and historic First Parish Unitarian Universalist Church, founded in 1675. Who spoke? Not a clue. (Maybe Brenda Buchanan can fill us in in the back blog.) Graduating from law school doesn't feel like as much of a rite of passage, since you're going to see all your classmates next week in bar review class.

How about you, Reds? Any memorable graduations? Your own or others?RHYS BOWEN: I remember my own graduation from London University very well, because there was a lot of pomp and circumstance. The queen mother was our chancellor and each of us was presented to her as we received our diploma. My parents, were in the congregation but near the center aisle. As the queen mum came down the aisle, graciously nodding to left and right, she recognized my father (who had shown her around the British industries fair several times) and gave him a big smile. My dad never forgot that moment.

My son's graduation from UC San Diego was also memorable because President Clinton spoke, so the security was horrendous. We had to be in our seats about 3 hours before he arrived. And he was late. Dominic was due to sing a solo with the gospel choir but they had to cut their performance to one group number. 

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: The QUEEN? The PRESIDENT? Huh. I got nuthin. Except I got sent home from my high school graduation because my white lace mini-skirt was too short. (It was, looking back on it.) It was gonna be under a robe, what was the big difference? I remember thinking--I'm not going back. I thought: What are they going to do, expel me? I did go back, because my parents cared, and I don't remember one BIT of it except for being thrilled that stupid horrible high school was over.

In college, we were protesting Kent State. Nobody went.

Julia, congratulations! Hurray! (Pomp! Circumstance! And didn't Smith cancel the speaker?)



JULIA: They didn't cancel - after the student body protested against the selection of Christine Lagarde, managing director of the International Money Fund, she withdrew. (They objected to the IMF, not to Mme Lagarde.) Instead, we're going to hear former Smith College President Ruth J. Simmons deliver the address tomorrow. She's also the former president of Brown - the first African-American woman to head an Ivy League school. I'm looking forward to her speech!



SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Julia, congratulations to Smithie! All I remember of my high school graduation is wearing a white dress (it was an all girls Catholic school) and then for college our speaker was Madeleine L'Engle, who I thought was fabulous. And it was an outdoor ceremony on a day that was ridiculously hot.

Before I became a parent, I wouldn't have understood — but the kiddo's preschool graduation was incredibly moving. He'd spent three years in the school and we all just loved the other kids and the teachers. 


But onward and upward! Now sometimes we run into some of the kiddo's former teachers in the neighborhood and he doesn't even remember them — but I do.


 




HALLIE EPHRON: We wore white dresses to high school graduation, too, and it wasn't a Catholic school. Madeleine L'Engle -- WOWEE! I'd have been over the moon.

I skipped my own college graduation -- political ferment of the 60s, we were protesting. At my daughter's graduation from Columbia, security was brutal (it was not long after 9/11) and it was teeming rain, so all we could see were umbrella undersides and we couldn't leave until it was over. The queen mum did not attend.

DEBORAH CROMBIE:  I didn't graduate from high school, having dropped out the beginning of my junior year. I did graduate from college, however, with a BA in Biology from Austin College in Sherman, Texas. (Yay, Roos!) My strongest memory is that it was hot (surprise!), the ceremony was outside, and I was smothering in my cap and gown. My  hair was very short, and I had on big chunky-heeled shoes underneath my robe. My parents were deliriously proud. I have no idea who spoke, but wish it had been Madeleine L'Engle! That, I would have remembered!
My daughter's high school graduation was so huge (held in the "sanctuary" of a mega-church) that we could barely see her on the stage. When she graduated from college, I was out of town, on book tour. Sigh.

Julia, huge congrats to the Smithie! And what's next for her?

JULIA: She's home for the summer (and beating the bushes for a job, so if anyone in Southern Maine knows of one...) and then it's off to Boston in the fall, where she'll be pursuing her MLIS at Simmons College. I'm very proud of her. Keep an eye on my Twitter feed Sunday - I'll be posting pictures!



(1) There are trans* students at Smith who identify as young men.

And this above all, to thine own self be true...

HANK: I've had many an intern in my days as a reporter--the gorgeous college girls who want to be anchors, and the enthusiastic journalism students who want to be Woodward and Bernstein--some even know who W and B are. The guys who ALL want to do sports, and the very few who want to write. There are also ..well, more than a few, who have NO IDEA. They are facing college graduation in a week or two--and they're terrified.

Terrified! And I try to tell them (terrified myself that I am FORTY YEARS OLDER than they are) that if you can allow yourself to believe it, that could be a very exciting thing. The whole world is out there for you--you just have to participate.

So they usually nod, and try to understand that. Although you can't, really, at that age. The unknown is scary. I say--fly! fly! And I just hope someday they' ll remember what I told them.

But yesterday, my little exit interview speech was a flop. This young woman listened to me, nodding, but I had the feeling she was just waiting for me to stop talking. So I asked..anything you'd like to talk about or ask me?

And she says, yes, actually. Can you tell me how I can just skip the boring entry- level jobs and just get to the fun part?

I must say that one floored me. I burst out laughing, and then said--no. (And then went on--you can imagine.)

I'm sure she was disappointed. And probably thinks I'm just keeping some big secret from her.
Did anyone try to tell you anything at this point in your life? Would you have believed that? What would you have told my intern?"

ROSEMARY: The problem is..even if I could think of something I wish I'd been told, chances are I wouldn't have followed the person's advice anyway. I'm not especially proud of it, but I have frequently had to learn things the hard way.

HALLIE: Ah, yes, that breathtaking sense of entitlement. We go on about how you have to 'pay your dues' and get rewarded with eye rolling--the same eye rolling by the way, that I gave my father to his "had to walk 3 miles to school in the snow" lecture when I wanted to know why I had to walk to school.

Do people still "work their way up from the mailroom?" Does the mailroom--or its analogue--still even exist?

ROBERTA: I guess I wish I had known that each little setback isn't the end of the world. That we shouldn't forget to stay in the moment, enjoy the process, and once we do our best, let the rest happen. I wouldn't really want to be graduating from college again, but I wouldn't mind a little extra time and energy, if you know what I mean:).

DEB: Hank, that is too funny. Did you tell her that if she can't learn to enjoy the boring, entry level parts, she won't enjoy the "fun" stuff either?

As for advice, I'm still waiting . . . Seriously, I think at some level I've always know most of the basics, said so succinctly by Roberta. But there's a big difference between knowing and DOING, and therein lies the rub. I wish someone had told me when I was twenty (or younger) to keep a gratitude journal, and I wish that even now I was better at sticking to it. Writing down ten things that you are grateful for EVERY day makes you constantly aware, and that can be a huge life changer.

Now, um, where did I put that journal??

HANK: Oh, that's a great idea Deb. I just read an article about a therapist who begins by asking his patients what they're grateful for. One said he wasn't grateful for anything. The therapist said--how about our dog, are you grateful for your dog? And the patient said, yeah, I'm grateful for the dog. Su the thearpist said--how about the sun? Are you grateful for the sun? And the patient paused and said--Yeah. I guess. Sometimes.

I don't know why I love that so much.

The grateful journal is a brilliant idea. I'm going to try it.

JAN: We used to say in the newspaper business that every job has its "obits" which comes from obituaries because they used to be the first thing you'd be assigned to - particularly at a small newspaper. And I always tell that to my kids. It goes along with my advice that everyone should have to waitress or wait on other people in some way so that they know firsthand why its important to be polite.

I'm pretty shocked at the intern, who finds herself with a plum internship, and wants to just get to the fun part -- but hopefully, that was just her sense of humor.

HANK: Jannie, nooope. The part of her personality, I fear, is missing. SO far.

So again, Jungle Reds: Think back--Did anyone try to tell you anything at this point in your life? Would you have believed that? What would you have told my intern?"

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TOUR ALERT: Hank and Hallie (with the amazing Cara Black!) will be at the Boston Public Library on Wednesday May 4, and Porter Square Books in Cambridge on Thursday May 5! Check our websites for info--hope to see you there!