LOLLIPOPS ‘ CRISPS: Lessons For The Mountain

A few weeks back, the seniors at our illustrious University celebrated 100 days ’til graduation at The Kells with brownies and couples skating. That’s when reality began to kick in, and by my rough estimations, that means that I, along with the rest of my proud junior class, will be graduating less than 465 days from now.

With the added luxury of majoring in public relations and the flexible schedule I have always desired, I have made it my mission to truly relish my last three semesters here at BU. As most of my peers scramble to perfect their resumés, make contacts through friends and relatives, I sit at ease not stressing at all. I sit around and listen to my School of Management friends quote salaries their friends and family are making or fret about where they want to live after graduation. And as I sit listening to them, bombarded with the reality of growing up — of facing the real world — I know I am not ready.

This past summer my best friend in the entire world, Ryan, decided he wanted to do a semester in the wilderness in the Rocky Mountains. I found this strange, considering Ryan’s outdoor experience was limited to owning a copy of “The Great Outdoors.” So he leaves for three months and comes back this new man. He possessed this rejuvenated perspective and sense of understanding, holding the world’s precious secrets. He saw the world for the first time again. But when he came back he realized that the world was a different place for him, that nobody else went on this journey of discovery but himself. So there I sat, asking his advice about my future, hoping that some of his Zen-like wisdom would rub off on me. I tell him that I am not sure about what I want to do in the future. I tell him that I want to travel, take pictures of the world and take my time figuring it all out. He tells me to just do it. I tell him it’s not that simple — I am too scared to take a risk, too scared to stray away from my path. And then my friend looks at me with patient eyes and smiles. He says, “That’s the thing Eddie. Everybody our age thinks that they have to stick to this path. After high school, we’re supposed to go to college. After college you go to more school or you get a job, you get the kids, the mortgage and the dog. And you know maybe that will be your path, but who says you have to stick to it right now? And why should you be comparing your route to mine or anybody else’s?”

I say Ryan’s got it.

It’s funny because most of us couldn’t wait to grow up. Being eight always sucked, but what got you through those sour times was thinking how great 30 would be. Thirty was your dad. He was tough and was good at softball. He got to drive to work and not have to go to class. But as we all get a year older and approach that nine-to-five grind, there are very few of us out there really embracing our long sought-after independence. I am not really looking forward to wearing a tie, buying loafers or anything from the JCPenny fall catalog for that matter. Clipping coupons. Medical insurance. Small tiny cubicles. Employee newsletters. I’ll pass on that, because for now, I just want to enjoy being 20. I have the rest of my life to file income taxes and pick out wallpaper; I don’t see the big difference if I jump into corporate America at 23 instead of 21.

Some of you out there are more than ready. You are the people that run a mile every day at 6 a.m., promise to donate your organs when you die, separate your papers and plastics and eat fiber with every meal. You are special because the rest of us out there seem to be just half-assing it, not sure what we really want to do with our lives. I envy you, for you have the drive and ambition to make all of your dreams come true. I, too, hope one day I will possess that drive — I just first have to realize my dreams, and that can’t be rushed. I just view the time after college as an intermission in my life — a chance to do all the things and see all the places most people put off and then one day say, “I always wish I did that.”

I hope to find an education not in the classes I have taken, but instead in the experiences and people I have met during the trip. To me, it’s important to follow the mantra my father has always taught me and one I will always carry with me: Give something back to the world. I don’t believe in regrets. I say take a chance once in a while, because we all like to surprise ourselves from time to time. That’s what keeps life interesting.

Yes, I have a lot of growing up to do. I still egg my ex-girlfriend’s house when I go home for Christmas. My cooking abilities consist of grilled cheese and waffles. I even have a plastic penguin and ceramic squirrel in my room. I have my work cut out for me. Where I’ll find life’s lessons I do not know. In the meantime, I must work to dodge excessive amounts of responsibility, bloodthirsty credit agents and the clap.

But please don’t misunderstand me — I am not trying to scare the hell out of you, to make you second guess why you chose to be a philosophy major. (Again, PR, so no worries.) I say do whatever it is you want to do, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. If you’re going to screw up along the way, it might as well be now. I mean how life-threatening can one’s decisions be when your parents are still paying your phone bill? And for all those who are going straight to work after graduation, good luck.

But don’t you worry about me. I’ll be the guy in a few years sitting next to you in the meeting with a pair of shiny new loafers.