<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9301180411
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
930516
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, May 16, 1993
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1993, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
MOST COMMENCEMENT SPEECHES HAVE 2 SIDES
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
Attention: young people about to graduate college. Put down that beach
ball!

  This is not a typo. I went to graduation ceremonies at George Washington
University last weekend, and all during  the speech -- made by a prominent
government leader -- the students were tossing a beach ball, punching it from
section to section, like at a Jimmy Buffet concert. I kept waiting for someone
to interrupt  the future of global economy by yelling "PLAY MARGARITAVILLE,
DUDE!"

  Now, having sat through my share of commencement speeches, I know the
problem. There is a tiny part of the college brain that  clicks on just as the
speaker steps to the podium. It is the part that says, "Get me outta here."
  Of course, you can't go anywhere, since you are dressed like a dork in a
blue gown with a cap on  your head. Where are you gonna go, the mall? Dressed
like that? Sha! And monkeys might fly outta my butt.
  (ATTENTION ADULTS: This is a line from the movie "Wayne's World." You are
not expected to  know this. Please continue.) 
  So there you sit with your tassels, and the speaker begins, and your foot
starts tapping. Then it stops tapping and your eyes close; and you recall that
frat party  that began last Friday and ended about eight minutes ago, and soon
you are drifting, drifting, into a peaceful humming place and suddenly -- POW!
  A beach ball hits you in the face.
Graduating into  the real world 
  So clearly, we need to do something about  commencement speeches.
Otherwise, half the graduating class will have concussions. 
  Now, we all know that the speakers -- like beach  balls -- are mostly hot
air. No one ever tells the truth at graduation. This prepares you for real
life.
  But you, the college grad, are young. How can you distinguish between
reality and fantasy  without beer? Not to worry. In an effort to avoid more
beach ball episodes, I am giving you my Guide To Commencement Speeches, so you
can hear between the lines.
  The following speech works for all  colleges, including party schools.
This is because all commencement speeches are the same, except when a school
asks a celebrity to speak, like Jimmy Buffet, in which case all you need is
"PLAY MARGARITAVILLE,  DUDE!
  And you know that already, right?
  Here we go.
STANDARD COMMENCEMENT SPEECH
1. WHAT THEY SAY 2. (WHAT THEY MEAN)
  Good morning graduates (those of you who are sober). I must tell  you, I
am flattered to be here today (and I am impressed with the size of the
speaker's check). I bring today a message of warning, but also of hope (this
oughta fill 20 minutes).
  You enter America  at a crucial stage (do the words "near- disaster" mean
anything to you?). We are on the brink of our greatest accomplishments (thanks
to my generation) but also our deepest troubles (thanks to your generation).
And what awaits you is a challenge unlike any other in American history
(except the last class I spoke to).
  You have worked very hard in your four years here (Ha! You don't know what
work is!).  You have studied great writers, great scientists, great
philosophers (now there's a waste of time). You have enriched yourselves with
their knowledge (tee- hee). You have met the task of rigorous study  and come
through with flying colors (just make those student loan payments, or we'll
break your thumbs).
  But life is more than just studying (and drinking till you puke). Many of
you are now faced  with the prospect of getting a job (Hoho! Fat chance!). The
economy is troubled (try crippled) and making room for you, the new influx of
workers, will be one of its greatest challenges (why don't you  all just go to
grad school and save us the aggravation?).
  You may find the road ahead a little bumpy (like a bus in Nepal), but bear
in mind as you go forth (go home) that we need you to be your  best (and stay
off unemployment) to meet the challenges the world has put before you (start
with global warming and work your way up). The knowledge you have gained in
your four years here should be  put to work immediately, solving the major
issues of our society (you Art History majors should be great at this).
  As you say good-bye today to friends and faculty (get their numbers, you
may be  asking them for work pretty soon) take comfort in knowing that the
memories you made here (first time you got drunk, first time you smoked dope)
will last a lifetime. You, like many of us, are at the  crossroads (where the
hell is the crossroads?) and the choices you make will affect the future of
our entire nation (God help us).
  We are counting on you, we are confident in you, and we salute  you as you
come forth (Sha! And monkeys might fly out of my butt.)
  Oh, and by the way. Young man? May I have that beach ball? Thank you.
  POP!
  Welcome to the real world, kids.
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<DISCLAIMER>

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