Congradulations (intentionally misspelled…honest)!

Fule for Thought

 

Graduation has become a massive undertaking, what with suits, expensive gowns, rented limos … it’s almost as big an event as a wedding! You try and tell your teenaged daughter to shop with care, and that “you’ll only be in the gown for a couple of hours …. don’t go crazy on the price!”  

But, if you’re a dad, you know that doesn’t always work. Grads have come to feel that this is “their moment in the sun,” and will be the BEST day of their lives! That’s a scary thought, because NO one wants to peak at 18!

My Grad year was 1978. In 1978 kids did not even KNOW what a “Safe Grad” was … our idea of grad was to escape the dance early, get changed, and hit the hills up where they used to mine coal. Now, we were a simple people in Canmore in 1978, and to have a party in the coal slack hills seemed like a great idea. However, as the party progressed, more and more people started to REALLY wear a lot of coal dust, as cars came and went … people danced … ran around … it wasn’t pretty. I’m not too proud of my own grad night, as I “imbibed” far too much. I vaguely remember trying to cut straight down the steep side of the party hill. That’s when I became a coal-dust snowball. I rolled, and tumbled to the very bottom, with the odd evergreen tree slowing my crash! Then I shuffled home along the road to the Bow River Bridge. It was now daylight, and many miners were driving that same road to work! Cars and trucks flashed headlights, honked their horns, and yelled out! I even think my dad passed me … although he didn’t stop to talk … THAT would not have been pretty! I was covered in black soot when I got home, and my mom just shook her head as I tumbled in.

Today’s graduations have become huge, expensive days. What I find weird is that 50 or 60 years ago, it was a HUGE deal if someone graduated from high school … not many could, due to having to start work young. Nowadays, it’s the norm to graduate, yet it’s become a massive celebration. The gyms are filled with chairs, decorations, lighting, large photos of the grads, and even a big screen for people to see at the back. Then comes the banquet, closely followed by a “parade of gowns and suits.”  

It’s all very spectacular, and from my own experience with a daughter … very expensive!!

The ceremonies however, are pretty formal and can be a bit tedious. As a “sometime” introducer, I try to add a bit of humour if possible. One year, the grads’ theme was “A Royal Ball.” 

Just before the start of the intros, I reached behind the back curtain, and said, “you can’t have a Royal ball” without “The King!”  

I brought out my six foot Elvis stand-up (the one where he’s in the gold lame’ suit), and he stood there through the introductions and we made jokes about Elvis and grad. 

The next part shocked me then, and still shocks me now. At a few places in the ceremonies, I joked that at the end, anyone could come up and pose with Elvis. Two sweet old ladies came up giggling. They asked if I would take their pictures with “The King!”  

Who could refuse? However, as I snapped the picture, both ladies put their hands on Elvis’s crotch! I was stunned … I never expected this from them! One turned to me with a grin, and said: “I’ve always wanted to do that!”  

They walked off laughing, and I was absolutely red-faced with embarrassment! I have never quite been the same since then!

Two little things happened this year at the ceremonies. While walking up the centre aisle in our robes, I was suddenly jerked back! In fact, I almost lost my balance. My lovely, black billowing sleeve had hooked on an old guy’s walker! As I caught my balance, I had to move on, I couldn’t even see what happened to the old guy, but I did hear some snickers from behind! Later when I was reading out grad intros, and we were almost done, I introduced a girl. To my right, and very close came some really loud, really high shrieks! They scared the crap out of me, and I literally jumped in my robe. Now, I can’t jump very high anymore, but I did this time, and I even lost my place in the program!  

Thank goodness we were almost done, but that scare and the heat of the gym, made me continue to sweat buckets … I couldn’t wait to be done! So, my 30th grad at Strathmore High came to an end. All the staff and I survived, but I am glad it only happens ONCE a year!

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)