And I have almost no memory of it.

I don't mean that I was so blitzed by the party the night before (there wasn't and I wasn't). I just don't remember it. It was indoors, that's all I got.

However, I do recall the feeling of it. I remember being swept up in the hurricane of the graduation process. The annoying rehearsals, the final classes, and getting your real diploma only after the school was certain all your bills were paid up.

Colleges want to make this out like it's a big deal, as evidenced by all the Go Forth And Serve speeches I just heard, but where you're sitting in the folding chairs trying to be sure your tassel is hanging off the correct quadrant, this is just one more scene in the production. The last week is so fraught with staged pagentry and hurried relocating, that there's little chance to even consider what is happening.

In real terms, you just lost your house. But the good news is that you don't have to go to classes anymore.

This ceremony would be more impressive if they held it six months from now, and demanded to know what the kids have done since. Right now, though, it's just the last time all of these kids will be in the same room again (or auditorium, or theater, or field, or hockey rink.) And in the college-endorsed rush to get everybody the hell off campus, phone numbers will be lost, email addresses will be forgotten, and a good portion of the Class of 2006 will never see another alumnus again.

What I find most interesting at these things is the dying throes of social heirarchy. When each name is called, you get scattered pockets of applause and hooting. Some kids get polite clapping; others get screams and air horns. I'm always intrigued by how this identifies the clowns, the popular, the slutty and the nameless. I want to know each Class's unique gossip. Who are the true standouts, and who just have the largest group of assholes for friends. Did the recipients of the many student awards really deserve it, or were they just the biggest asskissers. There should be an underground program offered to explain this stuff to me.

So far, there's been no grandstanding on stage. You know, no dude who moons the audience or does a cartwheel past the podium. I would estimate that about a third of the group has completely forgotten to turn the tassel, and the woman who ushers them over for the post-coital photograph directly offstage is not bothering to remind them.

Congratulations, Class of 2006. Now go forth and serve. It's only going to be cool if you make it that way.