Friday, June 05, 2009

Those pictures I promised

So the big day was here at last. Eighth Grade graduation! Or is it America's Top Debutante? You be the judge:


No, they're not 27 year old supermodels; it just seems that way.

It was quite a ceremony. The procession was complicated. They marched in in pairs: a boy and a girl, and were organized by height, with the shortest ones coming in first. There were more boys than girls in the class, though, so the last five boys had to march in and out together. They seemed a bit uncomfortable.


Then kids gave speeches, and grown-ups gave speeches. Diplomas were distributed. They read the names of the kids and what grade they started the school. The vast majority of them started school together in Junior Kindergarten, so they'd been in school together for 10 years. They had them all stand up as their names were read.


Then there was a part where they read the names of the kids whose parents, aunts, uncles, or grandparents had gone to the school, and there was more standing up.

I hope I'm not being too long-winded in describing this very long ceremony. Because one of the speakers (in an attempt to seem polite, I won't name names--suffice it to say that he's an Episcopal minister, but not mine) was incredibly long-winded. My daughter was rolling her eyes, my friend's daughter closed her eyes and pretended to snore, and I kept muttering things like "pompous old windbag," "self-important old blow-hard," and other, less-tactful criticisms.

After the ceremony was over, there was a reception in the gym, which gave everybody a chance to show off their outfits.



And then the fun began. The convertible parade. I'm not even a car nut and I was goggling unashamedly.


Those little girls made sure I knew that the girl whose father owned the Rolls-Royce convertible? Was their best friend. I'm happy for them, having the opportunity to befriend fame like that. But I liked the other cars just as much.



Just so you know, you're nobody around here if you don't come up with a totally clever sign for the kids to see as they're driven by. This sign showed the boy in question when he was in kindergarten in what looked like a cage with two of his friends.


Then the parade finally started. Tsk, tsk, tsk, all these Bentleys and GTOs and Corvettes, and my son was riding in a Chrysler.


Oh well. It was red, and that's what really matters.

JSS Graduation Parade 2009

Some of the kids threw candy out of the convertibles as they drove by, so when the parade was over, the kids ran out and picked it up.


Then some people had graduation parties, but the graduates had a dinner dance of their own to attend. And what's the point of a graduation party when the guest of honor is elsewhere? How's someone going to take him aside and tell him about plastics?

So we went out for dinner with friends. And had a rollicking time. Even so, when Young Master Buxom came home, his parents were already in bed.

He out-rollicked us. And not, I'm afraid, for the last time.


  1. He looks very handsome!

    And all this for just 8th grade? I can't even begin to imagine what will be going on in four years.

  2. Handsome fella! What a great day!

  3. It's official: You live in CRAZY TOWN.

  4. You know, the Rolls Royce was actually borrowed. It belongs to another family in town.


  5. Oh yea. Crazy town for certain. And I feel for those boys that had to walk together. Couldn't their parents afford to send a girl to school so the numbers would even out?

  6. where the hell do you live?? What school has 8th grade boys graduating with 20 year super models?

    I sure as hell did not look like that in 8th grade!?

    You feeding them whole milk?

  7. Yeef! I had to laugh when you described the pompous old wind bag. I think it would be a given that he's an Episcopal minister.
    Aside: We had one that was so bad, my spouse (Jr. Warden at the time) actually installed a timer into the lectern for his sermons. I believe the minister's wife was the most delighted with the improvement.

  8. Holy cow. Your public school has out prepped Prep. Or redefined it. I doff my hat to all y'all. (And must now destroy the evidence because sure as hell, we'll be driving graduates around in convertibles next year.)

  9. Cheez! Lake Forest's 8th Grade graduation was an hour and a half obligation held in the gym. OK, the girls wore white and the boys wore suits but as I recall, the ceremony was followed by our taking Emily to McDonald's for an ice cream cone.

    Maybe this is the main reason I heard about this mysterious yet fabulous Newtopia school system as a kid in suburban Pittsburgh.

  10. NO way. I could NEVER cut it in your town.
    Congrats to your boy.
    I cannot imagine the pressure prom must bring.

  11. Please tell Master Buxom that we, in Tuvalu, are proud to know him. (and he's adorable)


Gentle Readers:

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xxx, Poppy.