Grow up, you big crybaby!

Today's forecast: high strung with a chance of waterworks.

The imminent conclusion of my college adventure has got me falling apart a little.

There is almost no song that won't put a lump in my throat.

Example:

Today during the campus farmer's market, a symphonic ensemble played a free concert on the campus mall. The theme of the show was "Behind the Iron Curtain," and I was just fine during the Albanian dances and romantic overtures by a contemporary of Tchaikovsky, but the orchestra finished a few minutes early, so the conductor treated us to a bonus number: The Indiana Jones theme and variations by John Williams.

You wouldn't think that would start me sniffling. Unless you knew that my sons wrote the words to that song when they were five, six, and seven. The lyrics go something (actually exactly) like this:

Indiana!
Doctor Jones!
Indiana!
Doctor Jones, Jones, Jones!
Indiana!
Doctor Jones!
Doctor Jones! Doctor Jones!
Doctor Jones! Doctor Joe-ones!
etc.

I surveyed the crowd and wondered how many other families had "invented" the same lyrics. Every toe was tapping, that's for sure.

It was fun to see people smiling and falling into step with the jaunty tune. Then I started crying some more, just because in spite of the pain that comes with being human, a crowd of busy people can stop what they're doing for an hour to be with a group of strangers enjoying the beautiful day.

Yesterday we started learning Greensleeves for our guitar final, and though my rendition is far from inspiring, my instructor and a couple of the other students play it perfectly, making me... Yes. Cry. Just think how long that melody has been around, first played on a flute and/or guitar-like instrument, probably. Cue the Kleenex.

We were also working on our bar chords and strummed through "The Times They Are a Changin'," which has held up unbelievably well as an anthem of protest and principle. There we were, on the West Bank of the University, where Dylan used to play little dark coffeehouses. Come on. You would cry too if it happened to you.

Under normal circumstances this probably wouldn't have been such an emotional day. But it's getting close to quittin' time, and there's been so much to process. I'm anxious to get home to my family and yet hate to see the summer end.

Sorry to anyone who's averse to this level of sentimentality. But after meeting the people I've met and reconnecting with friends and family, it's getting more and more difficult to be cynical and ironic. About anything.

Every one of us is muddling through, doing our best, looking for love, saying our piece, eating, sleeping, breathing, trying to stumble upon some joy and meaning along the way.