A Jewish Mother's Wet Dream

We make the familiar drive down the 10 freeway to Redlands. I'd taken the trip in my 1967 Dodge Dart countless times between 1974 and 1977. We'd passed through Redlands a couple of times with the kids to visit the apple orchards in Oak Glen or on the way to Palm Springs. For the last four years though the trip becomes a regular one once again, as my eldest son enrolls in my alma mater, Johnston College. The school is now known as Johnston Center for Integrative Studies but I'll never get used to that.

This trip is to attend Joe College's graduation review. The scenery hasn't changed all that much since the 70s. I know the towns by heart, West Covina, Ontario, Claremont, Colton, Rialto... I will attend the official graduation ceremony next week and after that, this poignant trip and my visits to the campus will likely be very infrequent.

I graduate in 1977 and have no recollection my own graduation review. Having however reconnected with a number of my former classmates I am gobsmacked by the surfeit of memories that I have no memory of. Whatever did transpire in preparation for my graduation was certainly not attended by my parents. For us though it's a command performance and the lad asks me to provide beer and refreshments. At some point after my tenure there, the school goes buffalo berserk. There are buffalo emblems all over and at most public events there is much shouting of BUFFALOOOOOO. My own contemporaries share in my distaste for the buffalo thing. Nevertheless, I put my crotchety old fart feelings aside and produce a batch of buffalo shaped gingerbread cookies and purchase four cases of beer.

The room is jammed for the boy's committee. All of the amazing kids who have stayed with us over the last four years are present. The thought of being separated from this group is hard on the boy but I too will miss having a houseful of these smart sweet kids. The review process is sort of a combination of a eulogy and a roast. I understand now why the boy is so apprehensive about it. The session begins with his adviser summing up four years of Joe College's progress. Then the lad is grilled by members of his committee about his accomplishments and plans. Finally, the commentary is opened up to the community at large. It's unspeakably weird to experience this when it's your own kid on the hot-seat.

There are a handful of kids who pipe in just for the sake of feeling a part of things but most of the contributions are remarkably thoughtful. It is agreed that the young man is opinionated and doctrinaire. I worry a lot, and I'm sure that Himself does as well, that our kids have inherited the same negative attributes that dog their parents. It is no surprise to hear that Joe College is rigid in his opinions. What is comforting however is that his peers perceive him not as a know-it-all asshole but as someone who challenges them to think more deeply. Many report the boy has introduced them to a seminal film or musician. The director of the college refers to my boy as “smug and sweet.” Most of the speakers acknowledge his crustiness, but each and every one also note that a deep well of compassion and empathy bubbles underneath this.

I guess most parents think that their kids are slackers and wonder how they'll ever get anything done. During the grad review however the boy's tenacity and academic rigor is lauded. I promise that it will be many months before I brag about my kids again. And if you've read this far you're likely a friend so I will add that my son wins a Phi Beta Kappa award for an essay. None of the adjectives used during the grad review are synonymous with lazy. My adjusted thinking is that the kid is only lazy with regard to things that are important to me but inconsequential to him. He is tireless however with regard to his passions. And he is a passionate person. One kid recounts a road trip through Tahoe. Joe College is driving and it starts to snow very hard. He's never driven in the snow. But he has to play a certain song. “I've always,” he says "wanted to hear this song in the snow.”

Before starting college Joe College is a member of a theater group and certainly one of the stars. He's been part of this community for over ten years and it anchors him through childhood and adolescence. I drive him out to begin college in Redlands and remember making the drive by myself when I was seventeen. I share with him the exaltation I felt as I left Los Angeles to begin college. He shakes his head, unconvinced. “Maybe it's because I had a happy childhood.” He does return home on the weekends frequently during the first semester and I am in constant fear that he'll show up for good. But it clicks. He makes friends and thrives academically and grows to become an integral member of the community and an effective residence adviser.

Girlfriend in-law has a hard time expressing herself through tears. But, she gets it probably more than anyone else in the crowded room. Just like when he stepped away from the bosom of the theater group, leaving now this community where he is loved and respected must be terrifying. “But you can create this anywhere you go,” she assures him. “It is you and who you are.”

The day culminates with a student art show in downtown Redlands. We kill some time first walking the dog through the Thursday evening market on the main street. There isn't much produce but there's an illuminated sparkly Cinderella carriage drawn by two long of tooth white-ish horses. If you're in the market to join a church or pick up a belly ring or Tupperware and Avon products it's the place to be. The lots are crammed with SUVs and vans. Not a Prius in sight. A bumper sticker says, “ACLU—Enemy of the State” The “C” in ACLU is shaped like a Soviet hammer and sickle. Another car bears a sticker with a cartoon of a child praying. It says, “God always answers knee mail.” I think about the 5000 mile road trip we made last year, in search of America. Perhaps we needed only to travel an hour east to Redlands.

The student art show is fancy. The organizers are in a high state of agitation. There are passed hors d'oervres and local beer on tap. Our own Joe College is DJ and the cavernous room fills with sophisticated electronic music. Girlfriend in-law has knocked herself out creating an intricate audio/video installation which by far is the most ambitious work in the exhibit. Most of the pieces are fueled by the instinct to create and make a statement. The kids like photographing themselves and their friends naked. Twenty-something kids at a private liberal arts college, for the most part, come up a bit short on gravitas. There are some really nice pottery bowls, purportedly for sale. We are introduced to the jibbering potter who is so stressed by the event that she is unable to negotiate a sale. I made some videos, when video was a very new thing, back in my day at the college. They are stashed away somewhere but I'm sure the format is too arcane to digitize and it's just as well. I doubt that in forty years any of the kids will remember their contributions to the art show. They will, I'm sure, remember their friends and professors. The thing about college I guess is that the input is far more important than the output.