03 June 2008

Rite of Passage



The air was electric up at the Mount last night. Rivers of Pride, channels of hope, and maybe some small brooks of anxiety poured through the hills at Knott Arena. Was another Mount sports team on the cusp of glory? No, Governor Thomas Johnson High School was about to graduate its Class of 2008 and Chaz, my brother-in-law and fellow host of THE GUN SHOW (do you have your tickets?), was among the red and blue robed graduates.
The evening sun shone down on us as we wound our way in line to the entrance to the arena, eventually finding out way to seats midway up the bleachers at the back. Randy, Linda, Francesca, Bernie & The Maize (our very own rock star grandparents), and I had a good view - with my 200mm nikkor and brand new sb400 hooked onto the d40, I was sure I'd get the shot.

Let me just say that bleachers are hard on your ass.

Mercifully the speakers were all brief and to the point. The musical interludes prior to the old stroll 'n' scroll were pleasant. A lot of kids graduated last night. A lot. I didn't count (someone can maybe leave a comment and let me know how many?) but it was a lot. Chaz has always acted so grown up around me that it was almost weird to see him there with all those ... kids. I sometimes forget that the 80's are history for him in the same way that most of the 70's are for me.
Excuse me, I think I need to take a Geritol.
--
Okay, that's better.
The recessional was the drumline playing out the now-graduated senior class to what I assume as TJ's marching cadence. That brought back some memories of my days as the South High Band. Funneling all of the (remaining) people from the gym to the Field House was something of a chore, especially with people clogging the entrance. Administrators reading this after googling for TJ's name to make sure that no one is behaving inappropriately please take a note:
Examine your policy for the movement of people from one room to the next.
One old guy decided to bust my chops out of the blue by suggesting while we were in the morass of humanity that I "open this door here", which was actually just a big window behind a curtain.
Har Har. Asshole. If I weren't a gentleman I'd have introduced him to my flashbulb and my size 10.5s. (I get a wee bit claustrophobic)
That momentary unpleasantness aside, we had a wonderful time visiting with Chaz in the Field House, taking pictures with him and his friends, and finally making our way home down darkened country roads, our own good will and cheer rolling forth from the Mount in our own halogen-lit rivers of humanity, remembering our own graduations, or thinking about all the potential spilling forth into the world from this and every other school in these warming days of June.
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