The End Of An Era

Well, ladies and gentlemen, that's all she wrote. My high school years are over. And I must remark that the last four years were well spent (not to mention the thousands of tuition dollars doled out by Ma and Pa). Now, I feel obligated to engage in some brief recapitulation of my high school years.

WHAT I ENJOY(ED)/FELT GOOD ABOUT:
- The People: I count myself extraordinarily fortunate to have coexisted with so many wonderfully bright, friendly people. People from various backgrounds, who created an environment of ideas from various perspectives. I know that had I attended public high school, I would not have been exposed to such vibrant characters and minds.
- The Learning: With such sharp, excellent faculty as there are at my now-alma mater (God, it makes me feel old to say that), who needs certification in education? Male and female, younger and older alike, there have been a great many adults who partially donate their own minds in the hopes of growing those of their students. Perhaps I will someday try my hand at teaching (though I'm sure some of you might not want to subject your children to my oddness), and this feeling is because of those who have taught me not only how to read critically, but to THINK critically. I now understand how to analyze myself as I would a great work of literature, and I am eternally grateful for all the wisdom to which our teachers have exposed all of us.
- The Community: I am touched by the keen ability in the school to understand people's differences and embrace them. My school has set an admirable example in this way; because of the wide range of interests that one may pursue, one is seldom at a loss for something interesting to do. Hardly anyone is unable to follow his/her own path (assuming that path is within reason, of course) because of the breadth of interests served by the school. I for one have always considered myself as existing outside the "mainstream," but I have never felt out-of-place, and for that I am indeed grateful.

WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER:
- The Society: While I believe the school knows how to celebrate one's differences, I have felt on occasion that some students band together and do not mirror the views of the school. I have at times seen and heard undeserved ridicule, and I am saddened that we are not more tolerant. But with the right leadership, people can be shown a more supportive attitude, and fewer people will feel resentment of "normal" and "cool" students. We all deserve a fair shake, and sometimes I have felt that certain people have been slighted.

As you can see, my general complaints about my high school experience are relatively minor when compared with my compliments of the period. I will air a few grievances against myself, however.
- I didn't exactly capitalize on the opportunity to "begin anew" and establish a more standard reputation than I had had in middle school. Don't get me wrong--I have never wanted to be a conformist, and I know I'm not cut out for garden-variety "coolness," but I think I could have done a decidedly better job of integrating myself into school society.
- I underachieved academically. I had a chance to wow the masses, and I just never found the motivation to do things like reading ahead in textbooks, going in for a lot of extra help, and studying seriously for important examinations. I certainly hope that I will learn these valuable skills shortly after the beginning of the next stage of my education.
- And speaking of underachievement, in terms of matters of the heart, I remain utterly, profoundly deficient. No more need be said of that.

Anyhoo, when all positives and negatives are taken into account, I give my high school experience a solid B. Not bad, but there is room for improvement. College begins the last week in August, and I will set about working on improving upon the solid B at that time. But fear not, I shall continue to blog, so stay tuned.

Tonight's lyrical selection: "Don't Stop," by Fleetwood Mac

"If you wake up and dont want to smile,
If it takes just a little while,
Open your eyes and look at the day,
You'll see things in a different way.

Dont stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Dont stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterdays gone, yesterdays gone.

Why not think about times to come,
And not about the things that you've done,
If your life was bad to you,
Just think what tomorrow will do.

Dont stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Dont stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterdays gone, yesterdays gone.

All I want is to see you smile,
Even if it takes just a little while,
I know you don't believe that its true,
I never meant any harm to you.

Dont stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Dont stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.

Don't you look back,
Don't you look back..."

Guilty Pleasures, etc.

For some, it's chocolate. Others, expensive clothing. Still others, BDSM. Everyone has 'em. Mine is a little thing called "The Soup."

Yes, readers, I love the show "The Soup" on E!. I know, it seems to run against my policy of finding the comings and goings of celebrities revolting and utterly petty, but I cannot help myself. The show--despite the fact that it discusses things that I abhor with every fiber of my being (and if you know me, that's a lot of fibers!)--is brilliantly zany and enthralling. Despite being a decidedly B- to C-list comedian, Joel McHale delivers silly and offbeat jokes with a kind of panache that makes them not only palatable, but enjoyable. Segments such as "Oprah's Va-jay-jay," "Let's Take Some E," and the "Kickass Clip of the Week" contain just the right mix of satire and bizarro celebrity behavior to divert one's attention from serious, worthwhile matters, if only for a brief, savory half hour.

~~~

In other news, I am about to shed my status as a "high school student," though that title in reference to me really deserves an asterisk (I have hardly behaved like a normal high school student, as you will soon see). In a brief eight days, I will cry like a little baby at Commencement, knowing that my days of sleeping on my cushy featherbed at home are numbered not in the hundreds, but in the dozens.

~~~

In still other news, I will be attending my first proper party the day after Commencement. I am both extremely excited and apprehensive about the experience. I am excited because I am eager to learn what such gatherings are like (I don't get out much, if you have not already caught on). I am quite apprehensive, however, because being the Class Dad, I have always stayed on the path of lawfulness and righteousness. I don't intend to become inebriated (I prefer to spend my evenings lucid), but I have a sneaking suspicion that some people are curious as to what an inebriated Gavrich would be like. I don't know if I want to know that myself. Ah well. It shall be interesting, regardless.

Tonights lyrical selection: "Streams of Whiskey," by The Pogues

"Last night as I slept
I dreamt I met with Behan
I shook him by the hand and we passed the time of day
When questioned on his views
On the crux of life's philosophies
He had but these few clear and simple words to say

I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing

I have cursed, bled and sworn
Jumped bail and landed up in jail
Life has often tried to stretch me
But the rope always was slack
And now that Ive a pile
Ill go down to the chelsea
Ill walk in on my feet
But Ill leave there on my back

Because I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing

Oh the words that he spoke
Seemed the wisest of philosophies
There's nothing ever gained
By a wet thing called a tear
When the world is too dark
And I need the light inside of me
Ill walk into a bar
And drink fifteen pints of beer

I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing

I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
Where streams of whiskey are flowing."

Score One For Justice!

Well my life is pretty boring at the moment, but Paris Hilton's isn't!

From fox.com:

"Psychiatrist: Paris Hilton 'Distraught' and 'Traumatized' Over Jail Sentence"

LOS ANGELES — Paris Hilton is "emotionally distraught and traumatized" over her 45-day jail sentence and isn't capable of testifying in a civil lawsuit against her, the socialite-reality TV star's psychiatrist said.

Dr. Charles Sophy has been seeing Hilton, 26, for the past eight months and has talked with her several times since her May 4 hearing for violating the terms of her probation in an alcohol-related reckless driving case, according to court papers.

Sophy said Hilton needs time to recover from the shock of receiving jail time before testifying in a civil case brought against her by actress and diamond heiress Zeta Graff.

Messages left with Hilton's spokesman and lawyer weren't immediately returned early Tuesday.

In court papers filed Monday, Sophy said Hilton is "distraught and traumatized as a consequence of the findings at the May 4 hearing ... and her fear of incarceration."

"At this point in time," he continued, "Ms. Hilton cannot effectively respond to examination as a witness or provide any significant input into her defense."

Graff filed a $10 million lawsuit against Hilton in 2005, claiming the reality TV star spread "vicious lies" about her. Hilton has denied that she was behind a report alleging Graff once tried to grab a necklace worth $4 million from her throat.

Superior Court Judge Linda K. Lefkowitz postponed the trial to August. It had been scheduled to begin this month.

Hilton and her pal Nicole Richie star on "The Simple Life," which throws them into everyday situations. After famously feuding and filming their parts separately last season, the celebutantes have reunited as camp counselors for the show's upcoming installment on the Comcast Corp.-operated E! network.

~~~~~~~~
From Gavrich's Brain:

I for one am ecstatic to see that for once, the rich and famous can't buy their way out of trouble. Boy, would I love to see the look on Paris' face when she meets her new roommates. Now that would be a reality show worth watching! It would be just the next edition of The Simple Life. Ah yes, I can see it now: "The Simple Life: In the Jailhouse Now"

Speaking of which, tonight's lyrical selection

"In The Jailhouse Now," written by Jimmie Rodgers (as performed by The Soggy Bottom Boys in "O Brother, Where Art Thou?"

"I had a friend named Ramblin' Bob,
Who used to steal, gamble and rob,
He thought he was the smartest guy in town.
But I found out last Monday,
That Bob got locked up Sunday,
They've got him in the jailhouse way down town.

He's in the jailhouse now, he's in the jailhouse now,
I told him once or twice, quit playin' cards and shootin' dice,
He's in the jailhouse now.

He played a game called poker pinochle with Dan Yoker,
But shooting dice was his greatest game,
Now he's downtown in jail nobody to go his bail.
The judge done said that he refused a fine,

He's in the jailhouse now, he's in the jailhouse now,
I told him once or twice, quit playin' cards and shootin' dice
He's in the jailhouse now.

I went out last Tuesday, met a gal named Susie,
Told her I was the swellest guy around.
We started to spend my money,
Then she started to call me honey,
We took in every cabaret in town.

We're in the jailhouse now,
We're in the jailhouse now,
I told the judge right to his face,
We didn't like to see this place,
We're in the jailhouse now."

Oh, The Irony!

I meant to opine about this incident when it was fresh in my mind, but due to my debilitating inability to be proactive in most anything, here it is, five days after the fact.

I am a pretty competitive person, which can be a problem when you're as generally athletically deficient as I am. Luckily, though, I am able to play golf with a decent amount of proficiency. So, ergo, I am a very competitive golfer.

Last Wednesday, my team had a match against three other teams. It was the most important match of the season to-date. Happily, I was able to piece together a very good round of even-par 70, which was good enough for a tie for the low individual score for the match. The other co-medalist shall remain nameless, but let's just say he was named after a Caesar. Anyway, upon finding out that my team had beaten his team (quite an upset), I was extremely happy, as anyone who could understand the gravity of such a victory would be. But evidently, I was a little too happy for this unnamed player, who very sternly said, "Have some f***ing class, Gavrich."

Now surely you see the irony of this. Why use the expletive in an effort to be more classy than another? It is a question I have mulled over at length, and am still at a loss to answer.

But wait, there's more irony!

I was later informed by a teammate that I have earned a nickname among the team to which the would-be Arbiter of Class belongs. My nickname: "Timothy Faggot." Thanks, guys. You're so classy; I wanna be just like you when I grow up...NOT!

Tonight's lyrical selection: "Poor Boy Down," by Mike + The Mechanics:
"He's a poor boy in his pocket
he's a poor boy in his shoes.
he's done his time
he's stood in line
that boy has paid his dues.

He ain't looking for a handout
he's just looking for a start
he don't hate anyone
he don't carry a gun
you can tell that kid is smart.
So you can't
REFRAIN: Keep that poor boy down,
You can't keep that poor boy down,

you can be unkind
you can rob him blind
but you can't keep that poor boy down.
(REFRAIN)
you can lie and cheat
you can chain his feet
but you can't keep that poor boy down.

And all down throught the ages
the kid's been treated rough
just take a look
in any history book
you can see that times were tough.

Now we move up to the nineties
up to the 21st
one day he'll stand
a full grown man
and be the same as all of us.
So you can't

(REFRAIN)

you can lock him up
you can break his cup
but you can't keep that poor boy down.

(REFRAIN)

You can fight and steal
you can drag your heels
but you can't keep that poor boy dow

(REFRAIN)

You can kick his ass
if the kid's got class
you can't keep that poor boy down.

(REFRAIN)

Let's stop the truck
go back and pick him up
you can't keep that poor boy down.

Let him go!"