The Dickinsons are goin’ to Philly.
Bryce graduates from college this weekend a scant two years after me (he’s four years younger but about six years more mature) and we’re off to the east coast for a few hours to witness his transition from the warm freedom of college to the cold prision of slavin’ away for The Man.
(Not that I miss being able to sleep in until four in the afternoon, toast an Eggo waffle, spend 22 hours surfing the web and teaching myself the skills which would help me succeed professionally, pass out from lethargic exaustion in a pile of my own laundry and unfinished homework, and begin the cycle anew.) Sigh!
Of course, Bryce (whom you might remember from such lifeperiods as “The 8th Grade is for Chumps” and “How To Turn A Semester Abroad Into a Six Month Vacation Royale”) will probably continue to elude The Man at every turn. For now we can only sit back and watch what happens next.