Words of wisdom

It's become something of a tradition, this column addressing another class of fresh-faced high school graduates. This annual attempt to impart some final words of wisdom to another class of students as they prepare to dress themselves in uncomfortable gowns, perch funny-looking cardboard caps on their heads and sit in the sun for a few hours in a bizarre ceremony designed to provide some kind of closure to more than a decade of learning, growth and Guitar Hero. As I write this I like to picture you graduates, swathed in polyester and sitting in folding chairs. In my mind's eye, you look like a box of black crayons. Very distinguished. There are reasons these columns pop up year after year, of course. Writing this, I have learned, is the closest I will ever get to actually addressing a graduating class in person. Because while I make my case year after year I have yet to be asked to give a commencement address. Honest-ly, I believe I could bring some real star power to a commencement exercise. I'm known nearly citywide. Columns like this are also easy. They're what idea-starved columnists like to refer to as a gimme. Who, after all, can't come up with a few words of advice for a group of people so unworldly they still believe tapping out misspelled messages on a cell phone keypad is an effective means of communication? Sharing the hard-earned wisdom we've accumulated in the years since we were in your gowns. Most of which consists of repeating the same things someone told us back then. Work hard. Have fun. These are the best years of your life. Small-town journalists get all the women. Granted, some pieces of advice are better than others. High school seniors are conditioned to accept advice this time of year. Studies have shown that high school students who do not receive a consistent supply of advice from parents, family friends or complete strangers on the street frequently develop unsettling symptoms that include an inability to dance like no one is watching. The advice is not all cliché, of course. The people who give it have all been where you will soon be. We've worn the flimsy robes and the dinner-plate hats and we've all asked the question you're bound to ask yourselves as you consider all you've done to this point and all that lies ahead of you: Now what? The prospect of leaving behind the safe halls of Rosemount High School to explore something unfamiliar can be frightening. Remember, though, this is the least frightening graduation you will ever go through. Most of you will go on to college next year. And for all the new experiences it offers college is not the real world. College is the real world with training wheels. You will make decisions there that will affect the rest of your life, but mostly you'll just make decisions that will affect whether you try to scrounge up quarters to do laundry or plan a trip home. Ridiculous outfits and diplomas aside, this isn't the end of the journey. It's just a stop along the way. So pick up your diplomas this week. Listen politely to all the people who want to give you advice. Then go figure it all out for yourself.