Notes From Two Outgoing Seniors
On getting the last word: Writing the final piece in the issue would be a nice chance for moving reminiscences about the time we’ve shared together as a class.
On golden opportunities: Such a piece should be humorous yet heart-tugging, conversational yet well-written, fantabulous yet terriftastic.
On disappointing everyone: Such a piece will inevitably be cloyingly sentimental, frustratingly obscure and laden with the foulest of foreign profanities.
On agreeing to write such a piece: Seemed like a good idea at the time.
On giving writing of quality the old college try: Remember, an “A” student anywhere is an “A” student anywhere. Don’t worry about those big name universities. They didn’t get the juices flowing like your professors here did. So many talk a lot, but can’t do a damn thing. Not this group.
On whether or not that last piece of advice was taken directly from Bill Cosby’s 1998 commencement address at the University of North Carolina at Pembroke: We refuse to comment.
On Grandfather Cosby’s lengthy Sunday prayers: Of Grandfather Cosby’s lengthy Sunday prayers, he said, “I didn’t understand a word after he said, ‘Let us pray.’” When, as an adult, Cosby told his grandfather of this, “Granddad just looked at me and said, ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’”
On admitting that we’re now in fact just copying from an Internet article about Cosby’s speech, having not even bothered to look up the speech itself: According to the article, the speech was really long.
On giving it a try for real: We can do this!
On the nature of emotional growth:
On the importance of learning:
On the choices we all must face:
On the waterfront:
On the road again:
On giving it a try for real (revised): We cannot do this.
On why a series of notes makes for a better endpaper than an essay with structure and focus: It is what it is.
On the Crimson Dance Team: We love and respect you.
On an idea we had for this year’s Class Ode:
“It’s getting hot in Terrrcentenarrry Theatrrre…
So take off all your commencement regalia...
No, seriously, if you don’t take it off and return it to the Coop by 12 p.m. tomorrow you may be charged up to $500.”
On ideas we had for good Harvard Oration titles: “Mom and Dad, I’m Pregnant”; “Carl Morris is a Pussy”; “Carpe Pee-um.”
On an idea we had for the Latin Oration: Just get up there and be all like, “¡Ay! ¡Papi! ¡Caramba! ¡J-Lo!”
On future protests of FM by the Latino community: Ha! We’ll be long gone by then, nuestros amigos.
On some possible careers we’re considering based on Core classes we’ve taken: Samurai construction worker, Nazi filmmaker, children’s-party Magician—of Numbers.
On poor decisions made during freshman year: That time we split a bottle of Jagermeister in Weld and decided to take a trip to the John Harvard statue, only it was three in the afternoon.
Speaking of which: We really should take this moment to say a very special domo arigato to a certain family from Osaka, Japan. Their decision not to press charges allowed us to be here today.
On the sound business principles of Tommy’s Pizza: Aspiring restaurateurs should note that, upon purchasing an establishment where students enjoy playing pinball and arcade games, it is best to replace all pinball machines and video games with a single bouncy-ball dispenser.
On our friend Andy’s drunken reference to “Tommy’s House of Value”: Still funny.
On suggesting to the senior tutor that during the part of the senior dinner when they give awards for volunteerism and community-building, she should angrily scream that the selections were “total bullshit”: It would have been funny, and it would have been appropriate.
On the fact that Matt Damon, Class of 1992, was in the Delphic: Didn’t know that until a few days ago. Isn’t that weird?
On the fact that Celine Dion was in the Fox: Much less surprising.
On something heartfelt yet slightly creepy we’d like to say to the most famous member of the Class of 2003: You are like rain to a parched desert, sunshine in a gray land, hope where none had ever existed before. You are transcendent, a perfect thing amid so much wretchedness and wreck. Seal Girl, we love you.
On the Class of 2003 as a whole: The one thing that truly defines us as a class is the way we’ve all shared some very superficial experiences that can be tritely highlighted during commencement.
On eating in Annenberg: The food wasn’t great.
On that party in Canaday that had beer: I think we all remember that night fondly.
On getting Quadded or not getting Quadded: Doesn’t it feel like we all were or weren’t?
On House computer labs: Truly, some of us printed from them, while others chose to print from their rooms.
On the many uses of the Chickwich: Food item, doorstop, hockey puck, paper weight, unit of currency, ineffective contraceptive device, time machine (pending).
On the definition of the word “Chickwich”: Does it refer merely to the patty? Or to the entire item including bun? Because it does have the suffix “-wich” in it. And you can order a Chickwich “without the bun.” Sorry, we’ve already lost interest in this question.
On choosing a frivolous/humorous post.harvard.edu e-mail address: Like tattoos and drug possession convictions, sure to be regretted somewhere down the line.
On the road not taken: Was skipping the Six Flags trip a good idea? Only the passing of the years, the shifting of the sands of time and the enthusiasm of our friends’ stories about the Superman ride can tell us.
On my dad’s advice that a Harvard education wasn’t about learning facts, but instead about learning how to think: He sure was right about the first part.
Wait, “my dad’s”? You guys have the same father?
Um, sure. Yeah, uh, that’s why we have the same first name.
Listen: shut up.
On the difficulty of sustaining the conceit that this endpaper is being written by two different people at the same time: Very hard.
On maintaining relationships: We will both cherish and treasure the friendships we have made here for years to come, unless our calculations of interest dictate that we ruthlessly manipulate each one of you for personal advantage, in which case we will do so, without mercy, and without a moment of regret. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.
Watch your backs.
Final thoughts: This university was like a college to us.
Ben Mathis-Lilley and Ben Wasserstein have previously co-authored five semesters’ worth of “Gossip Guy,” a gluten-free cookbook and an erotic roman à clef entitled Call Me Ben.