:: Thomas Friedman gave me skin cancer ::

Sunday, May 23, 2004

In an odd turn of coincidence, Thomas Friedman (recently of "Create Your Own Thomas Friedman Op-Ed Column" fame - a meme I'd been following just this past week) gave the commencement address Friday at my alma mater. I was forced to listen to each painful word while enduring a heat index in the upper nineties. Had he and the chancellor better grasped the genius of brevity, I would not be the unfortunate recipient of a ghastly sunburn that I currently am. Note to those I come in contact with over the course of the next week or so: I realize just how awful the sunburn appears to be. Several people have pointed out both its sickening color tone and patchy randomness; repeating this to me is not required and you may proceed directly to the "mocking and humiliation" phase.

Side note: why I attended commencement three years after my own graduation.

When I was a junior in college, my brother and two cousins were conducting their college search as high school seniors. My brother settled on Northwestern fairly early on, but the cousins - fraternal twins - took until the spring to decide which of the schools granting them admission they would attend. One candidate university happened to be mine, so they and my aunt came to visit for a long weekend. They arrived, I showed them around campus, and we all grabbed dinner, during which I excused myself early due to indigestion. Knowing I would be spending all the following day engaged in more of the same tour-guide activities, and uncomfortable from the indigestion, I decided to forgo the usual Saturday night bacchanal, head home, and rest. Before I could say "ominous foreshadowing", the "indigestion" had turned to "lying half-naked and semi-conscious on my bathroom floor in excruciating abdominal pain interspersed with surprisingly regular periods of vomiting". This lasted for about five hours. One ambulance ride*, a bucket full of bile, an ultrasound, some IV Demerol, a rectal probe, twelve hours of nervous waiting, and a laparoscopy later, my inflamed appendix was lying comfortably in a bio-waste bag and I regained my ability to do anything other than crouch over in a pouty grimace hissing profanity (there was a lot of wincing involved too). When it came time for my relatives to depart, they had spent the better part of their research trip in the hospital with me and trying to contact my immediate family, who were, nicely enough, in Alaska at the time. The whole episode taught me a useful lesson: emergency surgery is a sure-fire sales pitch. Four years later, here I am watching both of them graduate from the school I pitied them into attending.

Back to the point: Thomas Friedman not only gave me skin cancer, but was smug about it.

Having enjoyed the hullabaloo surrounding the formulaic nature of his columns, I prepared myself for something truly special, and was not disappointed. Here are, in the order in which they were spoken, some of the highlights:

• While I didn't think it would go unmentioned, Friedman dropped 9/11 on the crowd in the second paragraph, contrasting it with "11/9". That's 11/9/89, the date the Berlin Wall fell. This is called "constructing a lazy dichotomy almost entirely on the basis of numerological coincidence". It worked for Aristotle.
• Here's a ever-so-inspirational quote (best read with lingering, thoughtful pauses): "Imagine. Imagine." The word or its derivatives would pop-up 40 times throughout the speech (really - read the transcript).
• Friedman noted that the internet, instant messaging, and Microsoft NetMeeting were drawing the world together as never before. He. Name-dropped. Microsoft. NetMeeting. Because when I want to stay in touch with my family, I schedule a teleconference.
• Hey, have you heard about this new economic trend called "outsourcing"? Apparently some people feel quite strongly about the issue.
• Oh, by the way, he has a new book coming out.
• Original career advice to graduates: "do what you love" and "follow your heart". I'm not making this up, I took notes.
• Friedman decided to grace us with an anecdote about the value of being a teacher (CEO to teacher: "So what do you make anyway?" Teacher: "A difference." OH! CEO got served!) which I'm pretty certain was curbed from an email forward. As the crowd responded with rousing applause, I felt a strange compulsion to watch "Everybody Loves Raymond" and subscribe to Newsweek.
• "Imagine. Imagine." Imagine what though? Not one for vagueness, Friedman gives us some hints. How about imagining, like that teacher with the witty rejoinder, that you can make a difference? Or perhaps imagine that politicians might surprise you pleasantly.
• "Listening is the key to life."
• Here's an earth-shattering revelation which threatens to tear the blogsphere asunder: the internet creates echo chambers. You should alleviate this by surrounding yourself with people who strongly disagree with your opinions. I believe Friedman has personal experience in this matter.
• Maybe being better listeners will make us better imaginers.
• Oh, by the way, he writes a column for a very prominent publication.
• Only a matter of time: here comes the Abu Ghraib mention.
• Americans are generally optimistic. This may or may not correlate with our imaginations, but regardless it's a good thing.
• The world today is much more dangerous than when his college-aged daughter was born. Because back then the middle east was blessed with peace and tranquility, Haiti enjoyed unending political stability, and the threat of nuclear apocalypse was really just a big red herring.
• Did he mention he writes for the New York Times, and has a new book coming out? He wrote some books before, too, if you want to check those out.

Not long after finishing his commencement address mad-libs/dart-board topic-selection rambling he was awarded an honorary doctorate. In Law.

Read the whole thing if you dare.

Posted by morland @ 04:07 PM

:: Comments ::

While you were in St. Louis, I was in Nashville attending my brother's graduation. Not to be outdone by Wash U, Vanderbilt selected Condoleeza Rice to give their commencement address. My flight didn't arrive early enough for me to see said speech, but on the plane I wrote the following poem in wistful longing:

"Rice Rice Baby"

Oooooooooohh Condoleeza,
I like the way you sneeze, yeah
You such a cock teaser-
You make me wanna please ya'
I don't mind your fleas, yeah!

Posted by: Grenergy on May 28, 2004 12:19 AM

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