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"Well, oh little one, how does it feel to be graduating?"

I looked at the swami, here at the Coliseum to view the commencement exercises. "I try not to think about it," I replied.

"Nobody does," the swami retorted, assuming the lotus position on the floor in the middle of the hallway.

"How's that?" I questioned.

"Have you ever noticed how seniors seem so susceptible to senioritis? Have you ever wondered why seniors behave so strangely?" The swami sucked his banana peel. "What does it feel like to be graduating?"

"I'm glad to get out of this stupid school," I immediately answered.

"No way," the swami challenged. "Sure, classes were dull, but think of all the fun you've had. How does it feel to be leaving all your friends?"

I thought a moment. "You know, there will be a lot of people I'll never see again. I guess I'll keep in contact with my close friends, though."

"But not the ones you just see at school. All your 'school-acquaintances' are going off on lives divergent from your own.

"When you graduate," he continued, "you will be ripping up all your roots, both private and social. You are getting thrown into a whole new environment with mostly total strangers and new sensations. You will be experiencing a form of future shock."

"But, oh great knower of all worth knowing and all knowledge otherwise related to the human experience, what does that have to do with senioritis?" I queried.

"Just think for a moment about how much free time you have--not long stretches when you can accomplish things, but just a minute here and there, waiting for a TV show to come on, a few seconds to reflect before a period starts, the time you're walking home, and millions of other times during the day when your mind is free to ponder the future. A senior going to college the next year has a great inescapable shock coming. The free moments a senior mind has are spent fretting about the future and the uncertainties that time hides from him. The easiest way to fill the empty spaces is to distract your mind--be goofy. It draws attention, so that other people will help converse to fill time; it's entertaining; it makes you feel good once you get over the self-consciousness of being gawked at by the underclassmen and the few seniors who have nothing to worry about. Senioritis is a very desirable defense mechanism to ward off ulcers and chewed fingernails."

"Hey," a voice called from behind me, "hurry up! The commencement starts in a few minutes."

"Well," I said. "I guess I'll be seeing you later, great swami." I turned to Kurt: "Are you gonna throw your hat into the air or not?"

I hopped into step with a few other kids and headed off into the bowels of the building. "I dont think anybody's going to throw their hats this year."

"I'm not if nobody else does," I said.

I remember later hearing the swami say, as he sat on the floor watching us go, "Seniors just don't want to listen. Remember, Rick, school, high school or college, isn't all that bad."

Rick Hines