Good morning, students.
Here's the art. . .
We're back from our final visit to check out schools with our daughter, and a decision has been made. The winner is. . . Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington!
It's a prestigious school with a beautiful campus, but man is it out in the middle of nowhere. We passed nothing but wind farms for a hundred miles. If they could find a way to export isolation, they'd be doing alright.
Once at the campus, we toured resident halls with their trademark pianos, foosball tables, and laundry rooms. We attended mock classes with teachers giving lectures on a Saturday to prospective students and their parents. I overheard at lunch that an economics class got slightly heated with some parents lecturing the teacher. Glad I missed that.
We toured the radio station and stood quietly behind the peach fuzzed DJ while he introduced the next obscure jazz song.
And once our daughter knew that she was looking at the school she'd spend the next four years attending, we headed for the bookstore and loaded up on Whitman hats, sweaters, and shirts. They sold bowties too in honor of their president's fashion sense, but it's hard to rock a bowtie unless you're a professor or a politician. And as you know, I am neither.
Sometimes our daughter seems so ready for this next step, and then she'll say something like, "I could kayak home on the weekends there in the Columbia River. What? It would only take me like a day."