It was called an academic diploma, and I was thrilled to receive mine. As I walked down the vast aisle of St, Patrick’s Cathedral along with 999 female classmates, I was optimistic.
I felt totally prepared to share conversations about Julius (a/k/a Caesar) and/or Cicero. I could not wait to meet many others with the same interest in Roman Emperors. I even hoped I might even find a fellow devotee of Virgil, but time would tell.
I looked forward to joining my potential friends at a Latin Mass, such as the 11 a.m Sunday vigil at St Paul the Apostle with the magnificent ensemble choir.
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And possibly at a later point in time my new posse and I might eventually discuss Lady Macbeth’s intrigue recorded so well by Shakespeare.
Sadly, I never met those with identical hopes or wishes or possibly dreams..
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And none of the anticipated events ever happened,
So yes the academic diploma was not a passport to the road I and the many others ( who shared the identical diploma) soon followed.
Rather as the road led to unexpected choices and decisions far from the aisle we walked down that sunny June day, I met other pilgrims.
None of course had any interest in discussing the Roman emperors or seeking out a Latin Mass.
Instead the intriguing new topics I had not anticipated brought the world of computers and cable TV into my world. I cringed but still watched The Sopranos (after the children were in bed) and soon abandoned the electric typewriter for another new challenge in life, a computer.
I gave up (reluctantly) Shakespeare, but found John Banville, John O'Donohue and Henning Mankell. And then I discovered Seinfeld, and I must also admit, Larry David, both who taught me to laugh aloud.
Not only I, but soon even a significant segment of Rome abandoned the Latin Mass, and I quickly followed suit.
However, I confess I still refuse to admit the academic diploma was a poor choice. It allowed me time to dream before entering the “real” world.
And quickly discovering that reality can be even more fun and exciting than a dead language.,
