LEARN SOME MORE

Dear Spike:

It was 92 degrees outside. And under my black cap and gown, I was sweating like a hippo on a treadmill.

I didn’t attend the commencement ceremony when I completed my undergraduate education. I didn’t really see the point. It was all just pomp and circumstance. A piece of paper. A name read on a loudspeaker. A walk across a stage for a piece of paper. And nothing more.

By the time I had completed my graduate studies, I had reconsidered. But on Sunday, as I stepped onto the broiling football field at California State University East Bay, I was all but certain that I'd made a mistake.

Then I saw you, perched in your mother’s arms and waving ferociously as I walked by in the processional.

And it all made sense again.

You probably won’t remember any of what went on Sunday. You slept through most of the ceremony, after all, (and I can’t really blame you — I wanted to sleep, too.) But I’m glad you were there, because it’s important to your mother and me that you understand, from an early age, just how important learning is in our family.

You have been blessed with privileges that most of the world will never know. Among the greatest of those privileges is the ability to seek and obtain an education.

Do not disrespect that privilege.

Learn. And when you’re done with that, learn some more.

And then more. And more. And more.

You don’t have to collect degrees like baseball trading cards. You don’t have to have a J.D., an M.B.A. or a Ph.D. And, in some limited circumstances, I would understand if you passed by a formal education altogether.

But do not pass up an opportunity to learn.

Read and write. Speak and listen. Discuss and debate. Ask questions. Ask questions. Ask questions. For these are the ways — the good ways, that is — in which our species differentiates itself from all others on this planet.

When you stop learning, you stop living.

Live long.

Love,

dad

DID YOU KNOW?

Dear Spike:

Visiting a flock of friends at the aviary yesterday, we came upon the southern ground hornbill habitat.

"The hornbill is from Africa," I read aloud from the sign on the cage. "It eats reptiles, frogs, insects and small mammals."

I turned to you. "What does the hornbill eat?"

"Milk, like me!" you said.

Funny, albeit incorrect. Problem was, I misheard you. I though you said, "Mammals, like me!"

"That's right!" I said, giving you a big hug. "You're so smart."

Just then, a group of older children walked by.

"Hornbills eat milk, like me!" you told them, obviously impressed with this new piece of information. "Hey kids. Hey kids! Hornbills eat milk, like me."

It took some time to explain to you that, in the animal kingdom, only mammals drink milk.

By then it was too late.

"Did you know those birds over there drink milk?" I overheard one of the kids tell him mom.

"Really?" the mom said. "I thought that only mammals drink milk. I tell you, I learn something new every time I come here."

Love,
dad