Hangin' With College Boy

This is the first time I've ever heard of a beauracracy whose efficiency was the cause of customer annoyance.

Being a slacker teenager and someone who spends more energy questioning the necessity of action than he would in simply doing what needs to be done, my son ignored his parents' oft-repeated pleas to get his college registration done before the deadline. He'd gathered everything he needed at least a week before it had to be done, and it would've taken him less than 10 minutes to complete the entire process. But no, he felt it necessary to wait until the very last second to select his classes and register online. The problem was that the school began purging "nonregistered" students before their own deadline -- so even though Tanner actually met the requirements prior to the cutoff, he had already been flagged as a no-show for this semester. Therefore, when he went to print out his class schedule, he found that it had been deleted from the system. Sigh.

So even though he had paid the fee on time, they sent him a refund check in the mail. Before he could start classes this semester, he needed to go to the registration office, return their refund check, and get them to reinstate his class schedule. I decided to accompany the boy on this adventure, not because I doubted his ability to complete the required transactions, but because I was not confident in his desire to get it done. I could see him saying "They wouldn't let me back in to my classes, so I need to take the semester off and work on my Warcraft skillz." No, I'm afraid that isn't the result his mom and I were looking for when we set aside money for his education. I went down to campus with him to protect my investment.

It was a gorgeous day for wandering around a college campus. As I saw all the fresh faces so ripe with possibility and opportunity, I made the remark that "I love being on college campuses!" He replied "Every adult I've ever come here with has made the exact same comment." I guess it just reminds us of the time in our lives where we hadn't yet found any ruts to get stuck in. Being on campus feels like freedom.

And just as they did when I was in college, the organizations who feast upon pliable minds were lining the walkways with tables, displays, and handouts. Groups like "Marijuana Smokers for Jesus", "Anarchists for Saving the Snail Darters", and the "Democrat Party" were all recruiting the innocent into their movements. Some even had authentic Tibetan refrigerator magnets to hand out, coupons for a free taco if you turn gay today, and invitations to a seminar where you can learn about the comfort and benefits of Universal Life Insurance -- all sorts of stuff like that.

We ignored these fabulous opportunities and proceeded straight to the Registration office. I won't bore you with the details of the runaround we got, but it was merely an amateur effort; they barely wasted our time at all. After talking to only a half dozen different people in only a handful of different locations, we actually found the answers we sought. We got the boy's class schedule reinstated and shuffled him off to meet his new teachers.

Because Tanner didn't have a ride home (and I wasn't in any particular hurry to get to work), I decided to hang out while he absorbed the subtle nuances of College Algebra, and would give him a lift home afterwards. While he was in class, I walked up and down the main pathway, and got a kick out of watching the kids. I'd guess that about 20% of the pedestrians were clueless frosh, heads wobbling in open-mouthed wonder as they searched for their classrooms. Another 20% were not students at all, but were folks like myself, or homeless people, or teachers. (Hard to tell the differences between those three categories, I guess.) I'll comment more regarding fashion trends and the general fitness level of the folks I saw at another time. For now, though, suffice it to say that it was a gorgeous day to be on campus.

Tanner's class ended, and with our chores completed, we headed toward home, intending to stop for lunch on the way. Guess where we decided to eat?

That's right, the world's most fabulous Mexican gun-fightin', cliff-divin', monkey-chasin', arcade-game-filled restaurant -- Casa Bonita! We were driving by the place and started talking about it, and Tanner mentioned that he really didn't remember what it was like. Apparently it had been 7 or 8 years since we'd been there. We made a spontaneous decision to just go for it. Nobody's birthday, no guests from out of town -- we're just too hungry guys having lunch in a mariachi-filled nuthouse! Should be fun.

It was. Unlike most civilized people, I do not detest the food at the Casa. Perhaps my taste buds are not too discriminating, or perhaps the folks who disparage it are being snooty just because the hoi polloi are simply not allowed to enjoy food that's served in the shadow of high-cliff cap-pistol melodrama. Whatever; I dig it, and also get a kick out of the kids who do the diving show...even if the script hasn't changed in 40 years.

This photo shows the dude in the middle of a back flip from the rafters. He didn't land with his toes pointed or his calves flexed, and wouldn't score high points from Olympic diving judges...but you still have to cheer for a high-school kid who can scamper up the rocks to an insane height and fling himself off into a pool that looks about the size of a bathtub. So what if he overacts a bit? It's fun!

We finished eating before the gorilla attack, but that's OK. The gunfight was entertaining enough, and we had some exploring to do. Once we were both stuffed to the gills, we got up and wandered through every section of the restaurant, while I told Tanner tales of his earlier experiences there. Yes, indeed, he was the kid who busted the piñata when he was 5, sparking his father's dreams that he'd be a major league ballplayer since he could swing a stick like that. And yes, he was truly petrified by the noises in Black Bart's cave, and by the giant spider puppet that grazed his head during a Halloween show. And yes, that's the stage where we watched part of a magic show...and then followed it up with your dad doing card tricks for you when we got home.

It's fun to remember when he was small enough to be overwhelmed by this place. But it's just as fun to realize that we'll be able to look back at this day, early in his adult life, and remember that we shared a good time then, as well. He has no idea how precious these moments are for me, and how I'll cherish them forever. But if he just remembers that he once had a good time hanging out with his old man, well, that's good enough for me.

Have a great day!