As much as I hated living in North Dakota, at least it wound down on a high note. Well, more like a series of good times: a trip to Winnipeg, hanging around Bismarck, knowing I was getting the hell out of Dodge with my college acceptance letters and the piece de resistance…graduating from high school. Not to belittle the accomplishment for many but in my family, it’s the least one can do since I am a third-generation college graduate through Grandma Maier, second with the other three grandparents. For some classmates, it was a big deal. To me, it was completing another stage yet not worth all the pomp and circumstance.
The overall ceremony was pleasant. Being 17, cynical and knowing everything, I didn’t feel any sentimentality. It was more like a mix between impatience (c’mon, let’s go, I want to get to college!) and anxiety (how the hell am I going to pay for college?). I don’t remember one speech, just a performance of “That’s What Friends Are For,” a Top 40 hit on the radio then. This probably made me roll my eyes, I wasn’t particularly fond of any song with George Michael in it.
My favorite part was when the formalities concluded, all of graduating seniors lined up outside the school to shake hands (or have hugs) with all the teachers, adults and classmates. It was an awesome gesture/demonstration of gratitude. I imagine it was a more powerful thing when my maternal grandfather earned his diploma in the Twenties.
Mom had immediate plans so I didn’t get to stick around and party, as if I knew how then. I did get to go on a late-evening ride in Darren Bjerke’s camaro. We didn’t do anything stupid or illegal, just enjoyed the open roads around Beulah, listening to tunes. Once I got home, I slept for as long as I could.
The following morning, I quickly packed and we hit the road (we being Mom and me) for Grandma’s house. My hopes or plans to just hang with friends for another mere day were automatically nixed by the need to get a Summer job. Landing one around Beulah, ND was impossible. What are regular minimum-wage gigs for teens and college students were usually held by young adults around Mercer County. This is the way of things in “real” America. At least we made great time on our first day of driving because we called it a day by Madison, WI. Based upon past experience, I figured Mom would throw in the towel with Minneapolis-St. Paul.
Maybe she planned on surprising me with a quick diversion to Milwaukee on day two. I figured we were going straight to Bloomington-Normal, why expect the killjoy pattern to stop as I had been badgered over money for weeks. Anyway, we drove to Milwaukee instead to get a quick tour of Marquette. Did it change my mind? No. The die was cast to attend days ago. I was really looking forward to this place by August. Had I known how much my two Summer jobs were going to suck, I would’ve pressed to be put in FFP.