Good morning everyone and welcome to Wednesday’s Morning Open Thread.
Morning Open Thread is a daily, copyrighted post from a host of editors and guest writers. We support our community, invite and share ideas, and encourage thoughtful, respectful dialogue in an open forum.
I’ve come to think of this post as one where you come for the music and stay for the conversation—so feel free to drop a note. The diarist gets to sleep in if she so desires and can show up long after the post is published. So you know, it's a feature, not a bug.
Join us, please.
Well, the heat has arrived here and by my own figuring we had about 10 days of spring—not all in a row or anything, but about 10 days of spring-like weather sprinkled in over the last four weeks. The heat index hovers around 100°F (around 37.8°C) for much of the afternoon, but the evenings do drop into the low 70s and a bit of breeze makes it all feel like a tropical paradise (except for the lack of beautiful beaches, coconut palms, emerald-colored waters, and beautifully tanned people).
But the big news, of course, is that school is about to let out down here and it’s Senior Prom Season! Ah, all the powder blue tuxes and over-wrought dresses. Just brings me back. I wasn’t the type of student that enjoyed dances (pressure, you know) per se, but I did enjoy the pageantry and all the joy that went along with such things. We had good times at those dances.
One thing that amazes me, though, is how serious Senior Proms have become; at least it seems they’re much more important now than they were back when I was in high school. Visa did a study back in 2015 and determined that families spent an average of about $919 on prom and Money.com estimates that these days it’s a couple hundred bucks more.
My tux and tickets (fortunately) were paid for by the school (in exchange for being Master of Ceremonies), my dad let me use the seven-year-old Pinto for the night (he even put gas in it), and my sisters collected some cash so I could buy flowers and take my date to dinner. Which, looking back, was the absolutely only way I could have attended—and we’re talking maybe $125 total outlay for the evening. I worked 20 hours a week then, but without those contributions there would have been no way I would have attended prom. If there had been a choice of spending my money or missing the dance, I would have missed the dance. (Remember, minimum wage was $2.65 in 1978.)
But Proms are big down here and over the course of several weeks (we have four high schools in this Parish) we get to enjoy the multiple grand cars and limos around town with tuxedoed and puffy-sleeved high schoolers hanging out smiling like this is what being an adult is all about. Dances at the auditorium with big bands, private parties, hotel wings infested with budding adolescents, restaurants filled with tables of laughing and slightly-awkward teenagers. And maybe this is what being an adult is like. Maybe it’s me that’s lost track of what dancing through life feels like and how important it is to have fun.
So, I’ll get on to work this morning and secretly pray that each and every one of those kids makes it home alive and happy—because that’s the sort of adult I’ve turned into.
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Be well, be kind, and appreciate the love you have in your life.
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Grab your coffee or tea and join us, please.
What's on your mind this morning?