Saturday, I mosied over to my hometown for my high school's centennial celebration. Tents were set up on the football field (first time my toes ever danced on that grass) for decades of classes. Right across from the 60's tent, where I hung out most of the time, was the 20's, 30's and 40's tent where my folks hung out, briefly. Long enough, though for my mother to get her picture in the Sunday paper, representing as she did the Class of '39 (Dad was '38). They weren't the oldest there, either. Meanwhile, back in the wild 60's, we were variously fat, wrinkled, grizzled or otherwise beaten up by life. Some were recognizable. Most were not. Nevertheless, we were there, alive and kicking, and for the most part, healthy, too. My feet were killing me, so I schlepped out of there after five hours. Got to see some really great old faces.
And, so, from the ridiculous to the sublime, my daughter graduated from law school the next day, magna cum laude. What a beautiful young woman she was in her velvet cap and purple-edged gown, with her juris doctorate hood trailing behind her. The Hon. Willie Brown was the guest speaker, an alum of '58, so it was a lively ceremony. I loved that they played Pomp and Circumstance, which was missing at her two previous graduation exercises. And the recessional was done to the final credit music from Star Wars. I just loved that bit of whimsey. We had a lovely dinner together before she was off with man and friends in tow for a mega-party at a local bar they shut down for the occasion. Oh, and did I mention she ran the Bay to Breakers in the morning, in an old cap and gown? What a kid. As we speak, she is at her bar class, with tons of materials, buckled down for the next 10 weeks till the exam.
And I have now taken my first final (a snap), am off to my final critique in principles of color, then home to buckle down myself for the biggee tomorrow morning, the art history blue-book torture test. Will be done, soon. Not too soon for this tired little lady.
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