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By C. Jake Williams. May 9, 2008
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"School's out: No more pencils, no more books." -Jack Nickolson, The Departed
I need to thank my family for coming to Logan Saturday for graduation. Both parents, both brothers and both nephews made the trip up to cheer me on in my cap'n'gown. It was a great day.
Samantha and Melissa came to the ceremony too. Hey Sammy, can I get the pictures you took? That's just one more example of Sammy being there for me whenever I needed her. And Melissa.
It was so relaxing to have friends and family rooting me on.
No more pencils, no more books.
Utah State wasn't my first choice for college, and not a single school turned me down after high school. Maybe I was afraid to go somewhere more prestigious, maybe it was the money, maybe it was ignorance of the application process. Either way, Logan was everything I needed in a college town.
I need one of those alumni license plate covers.
So now it's on to the real world. Not reality, like the shit you see on TV. Actuality. It's time to live and experience the things that Actually matter.
But sometimes I feel alone in this new ol' place. I've never been surrounded by people who think like me, but now the gap is wider. Deeper. Darker.
And I'm happy. Shane has made me cry plenty of times, usually some basketball injury delaying my NBA Development League debut, but how often have I made his eyes cloud up?
Allegedly.
I didn't see it. How could I, I was standing on the basketball court I used to report from waiting to hear an old man read my name and have another old man shake my hand. Wise old men.
Like my old man.
The paper.
I've worked two shifts now at the DesNews, 16 hours and change, and already I feel so much more aware of what it takes to be a journalist. I'm learning computer programs, copy-editing protocols, and most importantly I'm learning that I set my own ceiling in this world. I'm capable of anything.
Everything.
Just got to put the time in. Stay smart. Stay motivated. Work ride. Rise fast.
And remember those who've helped me along the way.
That starts with Shane and Dad and mom.
It even includes remembering those I wish I could forget. Fucking dreams. Nightmares. gET OUT OF THERE. lEAVE ME ALONE.
Tuesday I anticipate writing my first staff article, a high school sports story on a high school and sport that I haven't been assigned yet. But I'm ready.
I hate to sound like an NBA split-screen commercial, but I like the fear. It means I'm close. It means I'm ready.
No more pencils, no more books.
Except the pencils I'll use every day to hone my skills.
Except the books I'll use to broaden my range, vocabulary, and structure repertoire.
School. Is. Out.
You were there.