Graduation Day

My sister-in-law (I call her Jessica) graduated with a cool acronym this weekend. DPM. She's 24 and a doctor. Doogie 2.0. The ceremony was in the Allen Theater in downtown Cleveland. It was a classy, fancy joint. I love the beginning of graduations. All the faculty and smarty joneses march in with their extra hoods and stripes and cooler hats. Pomp and circumstance bouncing off the walls making everyone think of arithmetic and libraries. Followed by the proud lot we all came to see. Smiles and flashes popping everywhere. The commencement speaker was atrocious. He spent 20 minutes (felt like 200) telling us how fat and old America is and how important podiatrists are. It was a sermon given to choir members about how crucial hymns are. We were helpless. Held hostage by the man with the mic and a point to make. But then he finished and things got good. Jessica was hooded by her father (also a DPM) and alumni. That gave me a lil' tear. The valedictorian (top left of photo) gave a fantastic speech. My favorite line was something like, "over the past four years we developed life long friendships and happened to become doctors along the way." Well said, Dr. 4.0. I met the guy to the right of the valedictorian. His name is Michelangelo. He's going to be the kind of foot doctor who wears colorful Kangaroos while prescribing orthopedic clodhoppers. When called out on his hypocrisy he'll wink and pull a peppermint out of his shoe's zippered pocket. We finished the day with a dinner at a hotel hosting a Polka Festival. Proud Polish People were everywhere learning new dance steps and sharing their talents with the world (southeast Cleveland). Although not Polish, we were proud as well. Our little Jessica is a doctor now. Nice work, Jess.