High School Graduation

Last weekend my dear friends Eric and Dana were here, one day before their girl Jen graduated from HS. She's heading up to UF this Summer, and wanted to spend some time with D1 getting the low down on Gainesville. We drank some wine and shared many laughs.

Today, D2 is getting tutored in Math, for the final time this year. Ron, the tutor, a jovial Israeli fellow, was waxing nostalgic. "I'll help her next year in Calculus, and then, since she's your last one --that'll be it for you as clients." I asked him if he'd tutor our grandkids. He laughed and agreed he would.

These two events brought me back in my mind 30 years --as I finished my tenure at Douglas MacArthur High in Levittown.

A few days before graduation day, my friend Eric picked me up at a party. We were heading to my girl friend's house. He turned to me and said "You already know she's having a big surprise party for yopur going away, right? I mean --you had to have figured it out."

Well, I hadn't any idea, so the surprise was ruined for the first surprise party anyone had ever thrown for me. Thanks, Eric! 30 years have passed, and I still remember!!!!

I arrived at Alison's house, and acted like I was stunned. Alison and her Mom had gone all out. Probably 50 people were there --friends and family --and they all toasted my graduation and impending move to Florida. It was a great way to say goodbye --ruined surprise and all.

I remember standing outside my house, in my blue gown with the Honor Society gold sash. My father wore a sports jacket. He had my mother take a picture of him handing over his wallet -- symbolizing the college tuition he was going to pay. (As an aside, I found my Presidential Scholarship Award letter recently. It reminded me that my schlolarship was worth 1/2 a year's tuition --$1500! A private university's tuition was $3000 per year --less than 10% of what it costs today).

I recall nothing about the graduation ceremony, except some talk about how much weed some of my stoner friends had smoked. Alsison and I said goodbye in Bob Seger fashion, and then I remember my oldest friends Eric, Mark, John, Mike, and Jerry coming over to the house as we were ready to pull away.

We felt so mature --like real men saying goodbye. We had known each other since we were 6 or 7. We were 18.

My parents and I caravaned to Lorton, Va, where we spent the night. Dad drove his evergreen colored Olds 98 Regency. It was a 1975 model. I was in my 1978 Carmine Red Firebird. OK --so my parents spoiled me. At least I thought so until I started U Miami and saw kids driving Porsches and Ferrarris!

We spent the night in a motel, and the next morning boarded the Auto Train. My Dad didn't spring for a cabin, and I remember sitting up in the seat the entire night -- unable to sleep for the 17 hour train ride. I pledged there and then never to take the Auto Train again, and I never did.

We retrieved the cars near Orlando (Sanford, I think) and drove to Delray Beach, where we checked into an ocean front motel, the Bermuda Inn. I spent the days on the beach, and the nights at Boston's, a beach side bar -- learning something about the local South Palm Beach denizens.

I remember missing my friends more than my girlfriend. I guess I knew then Alison and I weren't destined to spend eternity together, as lovely as she was.

I had a terrific tan as I went off to see U Miami for the first time. It was love at first sight. I met a hard boiled Queens guy --Pete Hamm. His hero was Jimmy Breslin, and he actually became a reporter. Over a beer at the UM Rathskellar, he told me I was naive to love Miami. "It's a plastic paradise, Dave."

He had the whole city figured out, he thought, in a single day.

I never agreed with him. I was starting a new life, in a new place, and I was thrilled.

Have 30 years since graduation day really passed?