The last two weekends have been packed with driving. Mrs. Rootchopper and I drove to Indianapolis to fetch our daughter after her freshman year at Butler. It takes about 10 hours each way so it is quite a slog. This weekend we drove 8-ish hours to Saratoga Springs New York to see our son graduate from Skidmore College. It was a cool, breezy day. The ceremony was held in the Saratoga Performing Arts Center. The last time I was there was 41 years ago to see the Beach Boys and their opening act, Jackson Browne. It was my first concert.
The graduation dragged on, as they always seem to. We took pictures like crazy and yelled when our boy’s name was announced. Each graduate writes their name on a card. An announcer then reads their name as they move to get their diplomas. (Actually, they already received their diplomas beforehand. The ceremony was for show.) My son has an Irish first name that is often butchered so he wrote his name phonetically for the announcer. He’s clever.
The man sitting next to me asked if my grandson was graduating. OUCH!
We are all very proud of him. My son that is, not the dude who thought I was a grandpa.
If anybody needs a newly minted market researcher, drop me a line and I will hook you up with a talented young man.
During the drive back to campus, I spotted one the faculty members riding her bike in full academic robes. I so wish I had a camera but I was busy trying not to run anybody over. I am pretty sure the Skidmore community appreciates that.
After a day of hanging out, my daughter and I drove back to DC. We arrived just before midnight. Less than 18 hours later she was on a plane to Paris.
In two weekends, I covered over 2,000 miles in a car. I can hear my bikes calling my name,
It’s driving me mad.
A Few Spokes Shy of a Wheel 