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By: Paul S Cilwa |
Posted: 5/9/2008 |
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Page Views: 11,978 |
| Karen is rewarded for her hard work. |
Convocation started at 8 AM, and Karen was supposed to be there at 7 AM. I
intended to be there at 7 as well, to ensure getting a decent parking space.
I intended to take this seriously, and I wore slacks instead of jeans, and my
"good" shoes. Those are the shoes that cripple me for a week every time I wear
them, so I rarely wear them. (I should have known when I bought them; the box
was labeled "From The Marquis de Sade Collection".)
Unfortunately, I did not make my intentions clear to the people I was
driving. Karen went with her mother, so they were certain to be on time. And
Michael was ready to go even before I was. But…well, anyway, we got there
about 7:20, and the place was already mobbed. I did kind of luck out parking the
car, as I was in a lot with signs on all the spaces, "Leave Payment in Box 53".
But there was no box 53, or any other box for that matter. There were
also almost no cars parked there. So maybe I shouldn't have been there but,
whatever.
I had to stand in a line to get in that was longer than for a new Star
Wars movie, wrapped most of the way around the building. There were many
doors, but they were locked. I kept thinking, "Why would I hire someone from a
university that can't even manage a crowd to its own convocation in its own
stadium?"
Eventually I got in and quickly found Michael and his sister, Surya, who were
in the "handicapped" section, where they had saved a seat for me. Surya was
there with her walker, which is what qualified us. Our friends, Barbara and
Peter, who read the names at the convocations (they are linguists, which is
apparently what it takes) had made reservations for the three of us. The rest of
the family were at the highest seats, to make the grandchildren happy.
The interior of the Sun Devils stadium is enormous.
Then the graduates began their entrance march. An exquisite chamber
group played the inevitable "Pomp and Circumstance". They were very
good, but as the minutes rolled by and graduates filled section
after section of the auditorium, I began to wish they'd jazz it up a
bit. Unfortunately, they never did. Similarly to "I'm Henry The
Eighth I Am", the forty-second verse was same as the first.
Keeping us awake were the cap decorations. This is, apparently, a new
"tradition". Some of the students decorated the tops of their mortarboards. A
few were simple, glitter-enhanced rectangles or happy faces. There were several
"OBAMA!" caps (interestingly, I saw none for Clinton or McCain.) And one read,
in large letters, "HIRE ME!" You have to admire that student's
initiative.
The young lady who was valedictorian gave probably the best valedictorian address
I've ever heard. She began by explaining that her dad advised her to select one
single word, and to base her entire speech on that word. She tried a number of
different words (and even the phrase "cheese pizza") but, as she put it, the
experience was a string of failures that reminded her of nothing so much as
"George W. Bush's presidential journey." At this unexpected bit of political
humor, the stadium exploded with laughter, applause, and whistles, above a very
small and quickly drowned out chorus of boos.
It was at that point that Barbara and Peter began reading out names. They
went on and on, literally, such that our friends required relief readers to
spell them now and then.
I haven't had a chance to mention this, but my oldest daughter Dorothy
Elizabeth and her fiancé Frank and their little girl, Cailey, flew all the way
out here for Karen's graduation. As the reading of the names, like Celine Dion's
heart went on and on, other daughter Jenny and Cailey came down to visit us.
That was a nice break, and I even considered going up to visit the rest of the
family; but I hadn't brought any oxygen or altitude sickness medication, so I
refrained.
Then we had the Walker Incident. This was not Surya's fault. We were
in, you'll recall, the "handicapped section." Now, there are a couple of things
you should note:
This is the Sun Devil's Stadium, not a rented conference room at a
Holiday Inn. It has been used on a regular basis for housing enormous crowds
for years now; and surely Surya was not the first person in a walker to ever
make use of its facilities.
A "handicapped section" implies, not only easy access for handicapped
persons, but also accommodation of the equipment handicapped people often
need: wheelchairs, walkers, oxygen tanks, and so on.
But this "handicapped section" looked exactly like every other seating
section in the stadium. The seats were so narrow that if I closed my eyes I
could have imagined I was flying on United (except that the seat in front of me
didn't recline into my lap). Surya took the aisle seat on the uppermost row of
the section, which at least allowed her easy access to the seat. She rolled her
walker as close to her seat as she could get it; and the aisle was generously
wide.
About halfway through the proceedings (which means you could have watched
Ben-Hur on your cell phone if you wanted) a woman in a guard's uniform came
up to Surya and told her she couldn't have her walker in the aisle, as it was a
fire hazard. Surya tried to explain that there was no other place to put
her walker. The woman countered by demanding that Surya hold the walker in
front of her. Now, that was a fire hazard, as if there had been an
emergency, the rest of the row would have been blocked by the walker. It was
blocking no one in the aisle.
I am amazed that no one has sued Sun Devils' Stadium long ago for its
inadequate support of handicapped visitors. I am also amazed that no one had
sued that guard for being an ignorant waste of skin. Perhaps it's because she
made sure her name badge was unreadable while she interacted with us.
Finally, the magic moment came. I did take a picture, but of course Karen was too far
away to make out. (However, for $30 we can buy a DVD of the entire three hours
of entering, naming, and gavotting, including all 187 verses of "Pomp and
Circumstance." Just the thing to bring out at parties!)
But the best picture of Karen was obtained outside, when she had a chance to
receive her flowers from us and demonstrate her pleasure at having reached this
point.
Lunch or even a late breakfast would have been nice; but alas, I had to get
back to work. So we spent a few minutes taking pictures of various combinations
of relatives; and then going for the car (which, to my relief, was still where I
had left it and unticketed), and making a run for another day of gainful
employment.
In which, hopefully, Karen will soon be joining me!
