Here's Johnny - Off to college
No, not me. My daughter, Anna, aka “The Hatchling.” I call her that because I’m a former parrot owner and like the incredibly intelligent birds and because it amuses me. In fact, I had a parrot when Anna was born, but after a few months of trying to placate two screaming creatures, I realized one of them had to go. No one would take Anna and I finally realized that Flipper would have a better home with my cousin Marty, who had several parrots, one of which was the same species as Flipper. Flipper passed away last year at the age of 20. I saw him several times after the transfer and he remembered me and I know he had a good life in Indianapolis with Marty and her menagerie. Still, saying goodbye that first time was very hard. I digress … or perhaps not. On Saturday, we’ll load The Hatchling’s belongings into her mother’s car for the 720-mile trip to Marymount Manhattan College at 221 E. 71st Street in the Big Apple. She’ll check in Sunday morning. Writers of all stripes should avoid clichés, but phrases like “precious present” and “make every second count” keep popping into my head (and in this case, surviving the editing process). Parents should want their children to chase their dreams and Anna’s dream is to be a professional dancer. ’Course, with Anna having perfect grades and a nearly perfect ACT score, I was sort of hoping she’d chase her dream somewhere closer to home on a full scholarship. She did get a good-sized scholarship, but it’s obvious that I’ll have to step up the pace of my embezzlement scheme at The Sun to help pay for Anna’s dream-chasing. Before the trip, there’ll be a “beer and boys” chat (both are bad and the combination should be avoided for at least four years); the purchase of a goodbye present of a compass or some such thing accompanied by a loving and non-cliché filled note; and making sure there’s room in the car for a box of Kleenex – for Anna and her mom, of course. As for me, I’m trying very hard to not start missing Anna before she’s gone. Monday I bet most folks did not have a “case of the Mondays” this week. Monday morning, if you walked into your garage, hopped in your car, drove to work and rushed inside, you missed the best weather we’ve had in these parts for what seems like months. It was 60 degrees or so and the humidity was down and the sun was out and, all in all, it was a darn fine morning. An unofficial and quite unscientific poll by yours truly revealed that fall is the favorite season for most Kentuckians, and Monday felt like the first day of fall. ’Bout time, I say. I was even able to wash my car that afternoon without making it rain. There’ll be quite enough precipitation come this weekend.