Beware the Nostalgia Machine
Today I attended my last class at Princeton Theological Seminary. But this is not a celebratory post. Not at all. Were this a celebratory post, I would undoubtedly begin my summer estivation period. This would result in me not finishing my final two papers. Can't have that, but I do need a study break. Therefore, I blog.
Wednesday night we had a Senior Dinner. Food was good. My wife made for an excellent date. The president's wife dined at my table, and she was a hidden treasure. But then, somebody cranked up the nostalgia machine.
This is an Ivy League atmosphere, so we did not blast out "Friends Are Friends Forever" and hold each other while crying and exchanging phone numbers. We did the Ivy League seminary equivalent - we pretended that we all actually got along, would miss each other, and were more than casual "colleagues". Now, don't get me me wrong. Those statements are definitely true regarding some (maybe 3 or 4) of my classmates. But on the whole, graduate school is not high school. (Though they nevertheless insist upon calling us "seniors")
Who was responsible for the nostalgia machine? None other than those most interested in creating the illusion of an eternal bond of love between students under the banner of alma mater: the keepers of the endowment and the solicitors of donations. These people should not, under any circumstances, be allowed to direct a gathering of graduates weeks before commencement. They will inevitably seize the day, crank up the nostalgia machine, and try to convince you that they knew you before your name was on the list of potential donors. Before you know it, you are pledging half your first paycheck to an endowment larger than the GNP of entire countries in Central America. But they did give me a free PTS mug.
I am sure that actually finishing these papers will lighten the mood, so stay tuned.
Wednesday night we had a Senior Dinner. Food was good. My wife made for an excellent date. The president's wife dined at my table, and she was a hidden treasure. But then, somebody cranked up the nostalgia machine.
This is an Ivy League atmosphere, so we did not blast out "Friends Are Friends Forever" and hold each other while crying and exchanging phone numbers. We did the Ivy League seminary equivalent - we pretended that we all actually got along, would miss each other, and were more than casual "colleagues". Now, don't get me me wrong. Those statements are definitely true regarding some (maybe 3 or 4) of my classmates. But on the whole, graduate school is not high school. (Though they nevertheless insist upon calling us "seniors")
Who was responsible for the nostalgia machine? None other than those most interested in creating the illusion of an eternal bond of love between students under the banner of alma mater: the keepers of the endowment and the solicitors of donations. These people should not, under any circumstances, be allowed to direct a gathering of graduates weeks before commencement. They will inevitably seize the day, crank up the nostalgia machine, and try to convince you that they knew you before your name was on the list of potential donors. Before you know it, you are pledging half your first paycheck to an endowment larger than the GNP of entire countries in Central America. But they did give me a free PTS mug.
I am sure that actually finishing these papers will lighten the mood, so stay tuned.
posted by matt at 2:35 PM
3 Comments:
Congrats! You're my hero...
What do I have to do to get a free PTS mug? I'm not willing to commit years of my life in graduate work (not that they would take me!), so there must be an alternative way. Black Market maybe?
I know a guy who knows some people who may be able to get you one. But I don't know anything about any "Black Market". I am in the import/export business, OK? I am a legitimate businessman...
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