"To Live Without Appeal"

I am preparing to take my final college exams. Which seems weird as a thirty year old medical professional. When I tell people that I am graduating from college, especially at the hospital, there is always an awkward pause in the conversation while they contemplate the absurdity of the fact.

I don't blame them, really. It will have been, in fact, eleven years, six months and twelve days, since the last time I was handed a diploma. Granted, I obtained a certificate of completion for a two year program and what the French call: le diplôme d'études universitaires générales. But having a piece a paper, that says you have completed what is commonly referred to as "some college", handed to you by the postal service lacks the luster of donning the appropriate regalia and walking across a stage in front of an audience of your peers and family. But still, I can't help but feel that something much bigger is beginning on a cold December day in Idaho. In my mind, walking across the stage will represent not only 140 some-odd credit hours worth of college, but also, a life change.

In the beginning of my college career I felt that I had been called to be a man of the cloth. But the clergy did not like me, and I am not fond of them, so we parted ways. But before I left I learned a little bit. A professor taught, in a class on youth leadership, that adolescence lasts from the age of fourteen to twenty-six. I believe that it was in that class that I first stumbled across the word "tween"; which leads me to believe that I should discredit anything that I was taught in said course, but I digress. Reassessing this age bracket after having exceeded those years is mind boggling. As an eighteen year old know-it-all, I felt as if being pigeonholed into adolescence was degrading and stupid. I moved all the way across the country, away from my parents for the first time, to earn the right to be called an adult. How could this "professor" possibly call me an adolescent. How dare he! Now, I think that he was wrong, but only in that I am twenty-nine year old adolescent.

A month after I graduate I will be turning thirty. Which, unlike some, I am looking forward too. Seven months later I am getting married and after that the possibilities seem endless. The possibilities have always been endless, but these new possibilities seem more tangible than the old ones. Maybe it is because I already have a good job lined up after graduation. It could be that I finally don't know everything. Or maybe it is because now more than ever I have become realistic about what truly is possible.

I want to be a Rock Star

(Audience Applause as Artist Comes on stage)

Hello. I am (Enter the name of Musician). Thank you for coming out tonight. A few words before I begin.

I would appreciate, first of all, if you heed the encouragement of the announcements made prior to the show. NO flash photography. It really is not a safety issue, as the woman suggested. It's just annoying as fuck. NO sound recordings. I make the music, I own the music, I want to get paid for it. So, don't record my concert, go home, and put it on-line. If you have to get up during the performance please do so quietly.

Second, I am an artist. It is my prerogative to play what I want in the order I want. I realize the fact that you have paid a lot of money to come see me. So, you most likely want to hear your favorite song. Don't shout out what you want to hear. No one else cares. Besides, I can't play all of your favorite songs. Don't sing along. The people sitting around you came to hear me, not you. And your voices are, well, just awful. Most of you have been to a concert before so you realize that as an artist I have created what is call a "set list". A "set list" helps me stay on schedule for the time allotted to me by the concert producers and the venue. So, I will not be playing any songs that are shouted (rudely) out by the audience. And for God's sake, if any one yells out "Free Bird", I will cut the concert short and leave the stage. I can't even begin to imagine the last time that requests for that song from the retards in the back were funny.

Which brings me to my final, and maybe most important, point. If you find yourself with the uncontrollable urge to heckle someone; please, exit the auditorium immediately and find a pigeon outside. No matter how funny your comments may seem to you, nobody, and I do mean nobody, ever appreciates them as much as you do. I know, I know. I seem like a cool guy. You might assume that I will think you are just as cool as me. You probably imagine us meeting someday in a social setting and that I might become your best friend. But you aren't and we won't. Don't be a douche. I don't like douches and neither does anyone sitting around you.

So please, sit back, enjoy the show. And please, hold your applause.