Commencing

Yesterday my father was the guest speaker at my first alma mater's commencement ceremonies. He sent the 56 graduates of Really Small Town High School into the world with great advice: Dream big. Never give up. Go for the gold. Forgive, forget, move on. One more point, which I've unfortunately forgotten, but Dad is a wise 85-year-old, and I could not have been prouder of him.

Dad wasn't the first member of my immediate family to be a commencement speaker. My little sister, one of the earlier women from Really Small Town to become a doctor of the ilk that can prescribe drugs, was elected speaker by the graduating class of--1990? Something like that. She did a great job as well, with my favorite point of her speech still valid, memorable, and blindingly true two decades later: Life isn't fair. Get over it.

I'm quite sure I'll never be invited to speak at the RSTHS graduation ceremonies, because I am not even capable of taking a picture of the speaker, much less BEING the speaker, as the backs-of-heads shot above proves. Also, because I am easily distracted by shiny things, and the hair on the right and the head in the middle are--

I'm sorry, what was I talking about?