Point:
Go, grad.
Parents' weekend was a sweet reminder that mamma and pappa's money is twice as sweet.
Not that paying for three dollar-menu items at Wendy's with nickels doesn't give me a great swelling of pride.
But for us seniors the clock is ticking, and I can speak for the masses, we're sweating like Shawne Merriman at a steroids piss test.
Graduation is looming and this plane is going down…I'm looking for a parachute.
A job? Are you kidding? I can barely keep this column. Much like Tommy Callahan I plan on a long stay in college:
Tommy - "A lot of people go to college for seven years."
Richard - "I know, they're called doctors."
So what's my plan?
Grad school that's what. An oasis in a post graduation desert. Wait, oasis means placid lake of cool refreshing water right?
Good.
But I'm no "book learning" expert so let's go to one for an in-depth interview.
X.C. - Is it hard to go to grad school?
Sergei Zangief - "Absolutely not, you've got a lot of loopholes, like taking advantage of your undergrad professors, maybe their wives, shuttle drivers, or even a campus police officer. It's all politics. I got to into school because I knew somebody who knew somebody who robbed somebody.
X.C. - What's the best part of grad school?
S.Z. - If you shave everyday, you can act like you're still a senior, even though you're five to eight years older than all of the girls. Which in my mind isn't creepy at all.
X.C. - Any closing thoughts?
S.Z. - Knibb High Football Rules!!!
Grand Marshall Zangief is an associate professor at the school of Hard Knocks.
He fly fishes during his free time and has three lovely children from his wife LaSquisha.
Counterpoint:
My response to "graduate school advice":
Are you kidding me? Grad school?!
You haven't had enough trouble trying to avoid class and work over the last three years that you wanna go ahead and do it for three more?
Clearly, Mr. Calloway, you'll be attending the prestigious Southeast Corner of Louisiana State University Graduate School to study shapes and colors because you definitely didn't progress past a first grade level of intelligence.
Think about everything you have to do to get into grad school.
Aside from caring about your undergraduate studies in general (which I'm sure, dear reader, you've neglected to do) you have to jump through a billion hoops just for the chance to get rejected from your dream grad school. Thinking about taking the GREs? I hope you relish in embarrassment because that's all they're there for.
Did you know that the test is so smart that while you're taking it on the computer the questions adapt to how well you're doing?
So as you wrap up a section with a confident answer to the question "How many sides does a triangle have?" the relative easiness of the question just means that you messed up so badly that the GREs felt bad for you and gave you a lay-up.
At least you get your score before you leave the room so you don't have to go through the weeks of waiting to find out that you're functionally retarded.
And good luck even getting into the LSATs.
You need two forms of ID, three thumbprints, an admission ticket, a notarized letter from a clergy member, three letters of recommendation from U.S. Senators (two seated and one retired), and a partridge in a pear tree just to get into the room.
Also, every thing you own must be in a clear plastic bag-- pockets might not as well exist. And don't think they won't cavity search you if you look suspicious.
You can't bring a cell phone within 500 yards of the testing center and they won't even let you wear a digital watch.
I swear you feel like you're testing for Top Secret clearance.
But aside from that, it's great.
And I'm not even going to talk about the MCATs.
You do need extensive knowledge of organic chemistry to do marginally well on it.
I think that about covers that one.
So do the smart thing and avoid grad school at all costs.
Do anything else - - get a job, travel, move back home, start a business, brainstorm a new million dollar idea, waste away days under the haze of alcohol, start a family - - literally anything.
I don't care if you live in your parents' basement while you work the fry-o-lator at Chick-fil-A, it's bound to be less embarrassing than letting a standardized test violate your sensibilities.
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