On Friday last week I graduated from BYU…again. I think it would be appropriate for people to refer to me as Master Jedi from now on—I think I’ve earned it, like my father before me. Actually, my father is an O.D., which stands for something like Obi-Wan Darth, I’m not really sure. Anyway, before I was to graduate from the Marriott School of Management, I went to commencement the day before. You know, I’m not really sure what the difference between “commencement” and “graduation” is. The only difference I could really tell was that there were more people dressed like they were at a Harry Potter costume party during commencement—I kept looking for the Sorting Hat, but to no avail. However, one of the cool things that Masters Students get that those other lowly Bachelors don’t (suckers) is a hood! I’m not even kidding. I know it sounds weird and you’re all envious, but depending on what college you graduate from you get to accessorize your Hogwarts fatigues with colored hoods. Granted, you don’t actually hood your cranium with them, unless you wanted to pose for amazingly awesome pictures with your friends afterward, they’re more for looks and ego stroking.
But even dressing like Harry Potter wasn’t enough to compensate for the complete and utter feeling of boredom that overtook me after sitting for two and a half hot and uncomfortable hours. And this was before the ceremony even began! The Vice President was the commencement speaker and was receiving an honorary doctorate of public service from the BY. Apparently, because Dick Cheney is such a high-ranking official we had to sit and listen to American Idol wannabes. Don’t get me wrong, Broadway musicals are cool and all, but being forced to listen to an extremely loud PA system with terrible acoustics while stereotypical Zoobies sang and danced with arms and legs that flailed about as if independent form their bodies isn't my ideal form of entertainment. Then again, watching highlights of BYU’s last football season was a pure delight—the Beck-to-Harline “Answered Prayer” pass in multiple angles gave me chills. (btw, congrats to Beck for getting drafted by the Miami Dolphins on Saturday!)
As I was saying, it was due to this confounded security screening that I was sitting there in a complete state of discomfort for so long, but I kept telling myself that it would be worth it to hear Dick Cheney speak. When he finally did enter with President Hinckley, there was a sense of excitement as the crowd cheered him and gave them a standing ovation. They would go on to cheer him repeatedly during his apolitical speech, interrupting it 18 times with applause, but I kept waiting for something more controversial—something the media could get a hold of. This is a man that regularly swims in a sea of controversy. Whether it’s the war in Iraq, his ties to Halliburton, or just his dominating presence in the most powerful office in the world, this is a man that could surely liven up little provincial Provoville. But, alas it was not to be. The usually feisty and occasionally caustic Cheney failed to deliver fireworks or even make reference to his recent feud with Reid, the new Democratic majority or even the Iraq War. Though I did find it interesting that his wife’s great-grandmother graduated from Brigham Young Academy before it was BYU.
But all the controversy surrounding his coming was much ado about nothing. This isn’t to say that his speech wasn’t good, in fact, it was near perfect—perfectly safe. I would even say that I probably enjoyed the student’s speech beforehand a little more, since it was filled with literary anecdotes, aplomb, and real inside jokes. (When he asked Cecil O. for a tuition refund since he was graduating without getting married, I nearly doubled over). It’s just the thought that a man who could bring such a firestorm of protestors and bloggers to rally against him in Conversative Town USA, didn’t really leave anything to protest. In hindsight his speech was exactly what I should’ve expected: inspirational, humble, laced with a little humor, and surprisingly short. I just kept thinking of how cool it would be to tell my grandkids about the time when the Vice President of the United States came to town and in a critical lapse of judgment was tackled by Secret Service when he tried to show off his shotgun to President Hinkley. Instead, I’ll probably tell my progeny that I graduated with Dick Cheney and they’ll stop playing with their virtual reality friends and say, “who?” Oh well, it could’ve been worse; it could’ve been Ralph Nader (zzzzzzzz)…Now, where’s my refund?
**P.S. This is in no way a political statement. I'm just messing around.
