Copyright 2005 Ben S. Pollock
Wednesday, May 4, 2005. With help of another college friend who e-mailed me out of the blue, I’ve gotten the e-mail address of my freshman roommate. This was well over a month ago, and only now have I written a real letter to him. If Stanford hired a roommate-yenta, she deserved a bonus for putting us together, a great guy. What do I say?
I finally decided to write of my favorite memories of him. My posted resume tells him the basics about me. Mainly I want to hear about him. Until then, I’ve written about goofy stuff we did.
Here’s what I’m not writing, not yet, anyway.
P-: What, I want to say, or ask, do you think happened to what we thought we’d do after graduating?
You had specific career plans, mine were more vague as undergraduates. I don’t yet know how you found adulthood. All I know is how disgusted I felt five years ago thumbing through the reunion book and reading the summaries individuals put in to recap their last then-20 years. All these people who I thought would be scientists and architects and congressmen and compassionate doctors, all they talked about was the size of their houses, their last ski trips and their perfect spouses and exemplary children. Over and over again.
My 20 years were not that perfect. I realize theirs weren’t either, that this was a face prit’-near all of them were putting on for show, a Christmas letter to the nth degree.
But my decades since the June 1980 graduation were not such a steady climb. In 2000, heck, I hadn’t been downsized yet, the beginning of one of the greatest learning experiences ever. Great not meaning a barrel of monkeys
So, P-, are you disappointed that things didn’t go as planned? It sounds like you’re doing fine now, have a family and all, and I don’t intend to deride that. But were you surprised that it wasn’t easier, more predictable, nicer? Did you know in summer 1980 that no one gets promoted to the next rank or promotion or better office every nine months, plus three months vacation, after college? Office?
I suppose I knew it, just didn’t understand. That wasn’t very nice of life, for all the articles and parents and older friends telling you clearly about adult life, but you (me) still didn’t understand. Or even believe it would be like that for you. Me. -30-
