A Cat-aclysmic Year on the YBR calls for a toast to the Class of 2021.

 

While some college commencement exercises actually did commence this year, the traditional pomp and circumstances were not so pompous due to circumstances beyond our control. Under ordinary circumstances the honor of addressing you would have been bestowed on someone with name recognition. 

None of you know my name because I was never given one. Only a handful of you even recognize me. Nonetheless, it is fitting that I address you today, because I am circumstances personified.

On the one hand many of you would agree that you, the Class of 2021, were the victims of circumstances. You had no control over the power of Covid-19. You were subjected to the whims of a contagion that took pleasure in wrecking
havoc wherever it went. You zoomed and you zimmed. You were often locked into your residence hall, not even allowed to visit a friend who lived on another floor. Many of your meals were “grubbed.” Most of your extracurricular activities were scrubbed. Your dreams were often dashed. Your hopes for the real college life were diminished.

With all that said, I ask you to fill the air with a collective sigh.

Now get over it.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Life as you wanted it might not have been in the cards, but I ask you to throw off the shackles of victimhood. Many people, who skip though life thinking it’s a bowl of cherries, sometimes choke on a cherry pit. Life is what you make it.

I am reminded of the story of a young boy who is brought to a room waist-high in manure. The boy does not even hesitate before he is thrashing about in the manure…with a smile on his face. When asked why he is so happy, he exclaims, “with all this shit there has to be a pony somewhere.”

Life as we live it is a process. The sun rises and the sun sets. Sometimes it’s sunny and other times it’s not. Sometimes we write our life story without stopping to think that “circumstances” dictate that the next chapter in our life might not be the chapter we imagined.

After going through hell, Dorothy was finally going home. She, the Wizard…and Toto, too, were all smiles as they were seconds away from lift-off.

And then, as the saying goes, “the shit hit the fan.” Toto eyed my precious cat, who was minding her own business. Without warning Toto jumped out of Dorothy’s basket in hot pursuit of my cat.

Of course we all know what happened next. Dorothy “de-boarded” the balloon to get Toto and in a flash the balloon was up and away.

Poor Dorothy. We could say she was a victim of circumstances…and we’d be right because she had little or no control over what happened once Toto jumped out of her basket.

Life as Dorothy imagined it was changed in an instant. Her dream of floating back home to Kansas was never going to happen.

And then she appeared as if from nowhere. She went by the name of Glinda, but at the moment she had other names…chance, opportunity, good fortune, luck…or a host of other similar names.

Glinda was just the vaccine Dorothy needed at that moment in time. It was Glinda who told her she had the “power” all along to go home. All she had to do was click here heels three times.

Our lives are made up of circumstances. If you lived your college life to the fullest, despite Covid-19, you were presented with hundreds of different circumstances. How many of those circumstances did you fall victim to? How many of them did you take advantage of?

The word “circumstance” means to encompass and encircle. It means to embrace life, to hug it the way you might have hugged the stuffed animal you went to bed with when you were little.

The world might be waist-high in a lot of shit, but whatever you do, don’t stop looking for your pony.

Good fortune and Godspeed.

Past Commencement addresses:

2020
2019
2018
2017
2016
2015
2014
2013
2012
2011
2010

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Commence finding yourself on the YBR.

 

Past commencement speakers at Emerald University didn’t need introductions because they were all iconic figures. Even after Chancellor Green introduced me I could see a sea of puzzled faces asking the question, “Who is she?”

Well, I’ll tell you. I am the Good Witch of the North.

If you saw the movie, you didn’t see me, because my character didn’t make it to the silver screen. Whether the reason for my absence was financial or literary, Glinda did double duty, stealing whatever thunder I had for my brief appearance in L. Frank Baum’s book. .  If you read the book, you’ll remember I didn’t have a name.  All I had was a description:

“The little woman’s hat was pure white. It rose about a foot above her head and was pointed at the tip with little jingle bells which ran all across the brim and made a faint tinkling sound as she moved. She wore a puffy white gown that hung in pleats from her shoulders. Over it were sprinkled little stars and half moons that glistened in the sun like diamonds. The little woman’s face was covered with wrinkles, her eyes were the color of violets, her short curly hair was nearly all white, and she walked rather stiffly, but had a friendly, welcoming smile. ”

Despite such an innocuous characterization, my life mattered as does yours. With social media placing a heavy burden on your shoulders, the thought of being nameless in a selfie world is anathema to you. By the end of the day I can’t tell you how many new profile photos of freshly minted college grads will grace the pages of Face Book. It’s clearly an indication that we want the world to know we are here.

Being the host of a top rated cable talk show, appearing on the cover of some high profile business magazine, going viral, or selling an app for a gazillion dollars, might be what gets your adrenaline flowing. There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of those goals. But.

And by “but” I don’t mean a little “but.”  I mean the big “But” with one “t.” I have to add that in the event I get accused of making some a remark that can be taken the wrong way.

My role in Dorothy’s journey might not get the recognition I believe it deserves, but that really doesn’t matter.  What matters is that I was the one who came to Dorothy’s rescue after she dropped in on us in Oz. I not only welcomed her, I assured her that I was there to help her. When Dorothy told me she wanted to go home, I turned my white cap into a slate that told me to tell Dorothy to follow the Yellow Brick Road to Oz.

Being the least powerful of the four witches of Oz, I couldn’t join Dorothy on her journey, but I didn’t let her go off without me doing something that made all the difference. I placed a special kiss on her fore-head and told her “No one will dare injure a person who has been kissed by the Witch of the North.”

As scary as the deepest and darkest stretches of the Yellow Brick Road might have been, those stretches pale in comparison to the long road you are about to travel. And while I wish I could tell you that a kiss on your forehead will protect you from all the evil people who are out there waiting for you, I would be lying.

So what should you do?  How can you be assured that you will have a safe journey? The answer is as simple as it is complex. If you’ve yet to do it, you need to reach down deep and find your center. You need to align yourself with the spirit of goodness you were born with. You might have forgotten about this center, but it is there.

Don’t confuse this center with a GPS, because if you do, more likely than not it will keep “recalculating.” Your center is your internal compass. You will know in your heart if you are going off course as might be the case because in the end we are only human. But always remember being human should not be used as an excuse.

If you do happen to take a selfie today, take a long, hard look at it and ask yourself, is my face a reflection of the spirit that informs me and drive me, or is it a faceless face.

No matter where you go and no matter what you do, you will never be nameless, because the universe knows who you are.

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A Walk Down the Yellow Brick Road. You’re not in Kansas anymore!

The perfect way to end the YBR for 2014 is to take a look at the many different ways that the Yellow Brick Road has been imagined by some amazingly talented and gifted individuals.

  

 

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The One Armed Bandit on the YBR.

Although there was no casino in the Emerald City, I think revenue from gambling could have added to the great and powerful Wizard of Oz’s treasury. Recently I paid a visit to Moheghan Sun where the odds are definitely against you, and plunked down a couple of buck in the slot machines.

After losing about $40 of my own money (my self-imposed limit) I got to thinking about slot machines and life in 21^st century America.

From the inner workings of my sometimes metaphorical mind, I see the slot machine as the American Dream. My generation was raised to believe in the American Dream where anything could happen…as long as you applied yourself and worked hard.

I bought the American Dream and I fed it one quarter after another and kept pulling the arm on the American Dream slot machine believing that one day I would hit the jackpot.

And like my recent real slot machine experience where I continued to feed the slot machine only to see my small winnings erode one pull after another until the machine said, I’m empty, feed me more.

Well, I stopped feeding the slot machine because reality set in and I realized that sure, there was a chance I could hit it big, but reason told me I was out of my mind.

I think it’s the same today in the real world.  I, along with millions of other hard-working Americans have been feeding the American Dream believing that one day we would hit it big. What were we thinking?

The American Dream slot machine is none other than the Wizard of Oz himself…a big humbug. Those of us who fed it in the belief that there would eventually be a payoff have come to realize that it ain’t gonna happen no matter how many times we are suckered into believing it can because the political pundits sell us on one story where it did happen.

I’ve been around the block too many times to be hypnotized by the hoopla surrounding the 2012 Presidential Campaign.

The two candidates stopped feeding the great American slot machine a long time ago despite their gung-ho American patriotic sound-bites.

When I enter the voting machine and eventually pull the lever, do I honestly think I’m going to hit the jackpot?  Not only your life.

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Caution…speed bump ahead.

If you’ve never had to slow down to maneuver one of the many speed bumps life has cluttered your yellow brick road with, either you haven’t been on the road very long or you’re in denial.

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, speed bumps make your life grow stronger. Think back (but don’t dwell) on those speed bumps you’ve already encountered. Maybe your speed bump was: not making your modified basketball team; not being able to go away to college when everyone else you knew was; failing your driver’s test five times (that had to be me); not getting that second interview call back (that had to be me, too); or …well, I’m sure you can come up with your own speed bump. (I know it’s my blog, but I can’t do everything for you. Help me.)

Well, if you continued to believe in yourself, the speed bump might have slowed you down, but you weren’t going to let it cripple you. Or at least I hope you weren’t. (I did pass my driver’s test on the sixth try, I’d like you to know.)

I’ve had my share of speed bumps. Most recently I lost my job and was diagnosed with prostate cancer.  The double-whammy did slow me down, but I didn’t let it get me down.

Fortunately I’ve been blessed with family and friends. They make all the difference in the world on the yellow brick road. Unfortunately, we’re so busy, we don’t take the time out to reflect on the things that really matter.

That’s why I take advantage of my (mostly) daily three-mile up-and-down hills-walk, to spend some solitary time without distractions. And even though there are times when I want to end my walk before completing it, I don’t give in to the temptation. It’s my YBR break from the superhighway of daily life.

And if you think I’m alone on my walks, think again. I’m surrounded by family and friends even if they are only in my head. You’re never alone, either.

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