The paradox of the high school senior

By Erik Green

So turning 18 means you're grown, right? Yes, of course. You can drive. You can vote. You can join the military. You can get married. It is even legal to do married type things before marriage. You can watch R-rated movies. The vast world of adulthood lies before you like an unexplored island paradise.
Unfortunately, your senior year of high school keeps you in the bosom of childhood a little longer, and it *&^%$# stinks! In school you cannot sleep (no matter how hungover you are). You cannot chew gum or tobacco. You can't kiss your girlfriend/boyfriend, even though you will likely marry them (har, har, har). You can't speak freely (No, your teacher is not dude). You can't talk on the phone (OMG wtc?). You can't dress as scantily clad as you might wish. Your days are meticulously scheduled to the minute, and your mom even makes you ride the bus now and then.
The worst part is you can't do anything about it, unless you plan on quitting, and then there goes 12-plus years of lectures, experiments, and kick ball games. But it happens. According to an ABC News story (http://abcnews.go.com/US/story?id=2667532), some 2,500 students drop out of school every day! Obviously not all of those students are seniors, but I suspect there is an alarming number of seniors who simply quit months before they are scheduled to graduate. Why? Because they are adults, of course.
I am convinced that seniors drop out because they have been convinced that turning 18makes them an adult, when it is simply untrue, and they feel that school is no longer relevant. It's kid stuff. Seniors seem to be more combative with teachers, more resistant to school rules, and more reluctant to comply academically than other students because they simply believe that they are grown, and that such a title awards them some sort of immunity. I had a senior come to In-School Suspension because he'd been accused, perhaps wrongly, of vandalism. He said that instead of taking his punishment he was going to quit school. It smelled like pride to me, and I told him so. His mindset was, "I am an adult, and they cannot treat me this way." Sure they can, especially if you plan on graduating. The same is true in the working world. I can tell my boss where to stick it, but not if I want to eat and pay the bills.
In my opinion, seniors become discouraged with their circumstances because they have yet to acquire the valuable resource known as foresight. At present, what is important to a typical senior is Billy's party, or Tommy's Mustang, or Susy's... characteristics. It isn't "I need to put something away for retirement," or "When I get to college I am going to be clueless, so I'd better study."
I understand because I've been there. I rolled my eyes when my parents talked about responsibility, hard work, and goals. My goal was to chase girls, a task at which I was utterly pathetic. As a senior, I was driving a free car, on free gas, and complaining about it. I was the guy arguing about the drinking age with my economics teacher. I could die for my country, but I couldn't have a beer. Please, I wasn't about to die for my country, but it was the principle of the matter. I was an adult; I could do as I pleased. It took 12 years to make up for doing as I pleased as an 18-year-old child.

Primal Scream

I just need to scream AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had a bad day at school, so......................................AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH....ok getting there.....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...ok all better. Thanks! :)
Erik

PS...If you are ever bored and have some time to kill, check out this site: http://www.faceresearch.org/demos/average

Update on Fischer

Here is an update from my friend Bryan on baby Fischer.

Fischer Michael Young
Born 8-21-08 10:18am/est 6lbs 10oz 19 1/2"
Floyd Medical Center Rome,GA

Fischer is doing great. He was moved to the NICU Friday at lunch because he was not eating good and his sugar was dangerously low. Since then his sugar is stable with help from an IV and is eating great. He will be able to leave when his eating has gotten a little better and has the is IV removed. Erin is doing great and will be able to go home Sunday or Monday. We will have to leave Fischer at the hospital until he is a little stronger. Please continue to pray for us.
Bryan

Hurray for Fischer Michael

Many of you have heard that my friend Bryan and his wife Erin were expecting a baby, but have had complications due to her type one diabetes.
Well, Fischer Michael Young was born today at 10:18 a.m., weighing 6 pounds and 10 ounces, and he was 19.5 inches long. Praise the Lord! Everyone is healthy!

R.I.P LeRoi Moore

Many of us have been inspired over the years by the music of the Dave Matthews Band; I know I have. On Tuesday, the DMB's saxophone player LeRoi Moore died of complications from injuries he suffered in a recent ATV accident. He was 46. LeRoi never basked in the spotlight, but make no mistake, he was fabulously talented. He was also the coolest cat on the block. I am terribly saddened by the death of this masterful musician. It pains me to no end that murderers, thugs, rapists, and other scum continue to live on, while a true gem like LeRoi is taken so young. Please pray for LeRoi's family.

On the DMB's Web site, the band left a statement:
"We are deeply saddened that LeRoi Moore, saxophonist and founding member of Dave Matthews Band, died unexpectedly Tuesday afternoon, August 19, 2008, at Hollywood Presbyterian Medical Center in Los Angeles from sudden complications stemming from his June ATV accident on his farm near Charlottesville, Virginia. LeRoi had recently returned to his Los Angeles home to begin an intensive physical rehabilitation program."

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I also heard today that the younger of my two nieces, Michelle, who is 16, totalled her car at some point last week/weekend. She is fine, but as you can imagine it has been a wild series of events for my sister, brother-in-law, and the rest of the family. Continue to pray for strength for them all.

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Keep up the prayers folks!

--Erik

The word nerd's ultimate wardrobe

Here are some t-shirts, and other designs, that just crack me up! (never end a sentence with a preposition).

The Great Coke Can Debacle.

So after much pressure to continue, I now humbly submit a blog. Yaay!

As many of you know, Angie and I moved into a new house at the end of May. We have really enjoyed it, and it has been everything we wanted. Well, except the upstairs toilet. Mind you, this is a brand new house. We have, um...left our mark where no man has marked before. Now, one particular Sunday afternoon I was typing away on our computer upstairs and decided to make a routine bathroom visit. When I flushed, however, the result was anything but routine. The toilet stopped up, and began to overflow. The water--and it is a stretch to call it water--began to go under the wall and run down our kitchen wall downstairs. I knew this was happening because Angie was screaming something in French. So, I went and bought a plunger, and nearly had a heart attack as I attacked the John. In fact, I plunged so hard that the--uh toilet history, if you will--began to flow into our shower. This, my friends, was as close to hell as I ever want to get. So, clearly, I was not going to fix the toilet myself. Luckily, a plumber was open and someone came out and fixed it so that it would at least flush. I then cleaned up the considerably grotesque mess and we called the guy who built our house and told him about it. He decided he wanted to send out his own plumber to check it out. So, a week or so later, three guys show up and go to work. After an hour or so, one of the men came in the house and said,
"I know what your problem is."
I'm thinking, "Yeah really? I believe my problem is that I had to clean up crap!"
But he said, "There is a coke can in your pipe."
Apparently, during construction, some genius threw his Dr. Pepper can into the pipes. The plumber brought the discarded can in on a stick and showed it to me. Needless to say, our builder agreed to reimburse us for our considerable plumber bill. Unfortunately, neither money nor Ajax could scrub the memory of that blasted day out of my mind. Bluuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

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In other news, Angie and I are both very busy this semester, as usual. She is working on her masters, getting a gifted endorsement, and taking a mentoring class. I have two classes, the first of which begins tomorrow and involves the reading of 11 books. I am making strides, I guess. Also, I have been invited to be a Palanca Cha at Tres Dias in November, so I am stoked about that! Hope everyone has a nice week!
Erik