by Geoff Brown
Howdy, folks! It has been quite some time since I've inflicted myself upon y'all, but with this being the Review's fifteenth anniversary and all, I was moved to write a little something for the newspaper I used to call home (quite literally during production weekends, as I remember!). Last May, against my better judgment, I decided that it was time to graduate and get my biology degree from this fine institution and flee, quickly, from the world of undergraduate education. Over the past seven months or so, I have experienced [WARNING TO SENIORS ON THE VERGE OF GRADUATING! READING THE FOLLOWING PASSAGE MAY BE FRIGHTENING TO YOU AND/OR HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH! PLEASE TAKE PRECAUTIONS!!] the real world. It's not a pretty sight. However, I think that you all would benefit from the experiences, wisdom, and knowledge of one who has experienced the real world and has significant, meaningful anecdotes to share with you. Unfortunately, what you have is me. So sit back, fasten your seatbelts, and roll up for the mystery tour, which is dying to take you away to: the "real world." (Believe me, you'll be dying to come right the hell back, too).
As soon as I graduated, I moved on to the relaxing and completely carefree career of "unemployed college graduate." This was a great career: no dress code, flexible hours, you get to hang out with your friends a lot, and so on. Oh sure, there was still the Review to manage until I handed the reins over to Ben formally, but without classes, exams, and an actual staff (all of whom had wisely decided to (a) flee Ann Arbor before their evil professors decided to destroy what was left of their brains with more damned exams, and, (b) take lucrative and influential internships) this seemed much less demanding than it did before until I realized that, "Hey, my staff is gone!" But this otherwise disastrous revelation still didn't harm my mood, because I was in the lucrative field of "unemployed college graduate," and I even had a couple of pending grad school admissions and possible job offers, so the "unemployed" part just seemed like a nice break. I would have continued in the field of "unemployed college graduate" (hell, I could have been a manager in that field) was it not for the annoying little fact that it doesn't tend to pay well. Then, suddenly, those last grad school prospects fizzled out, and wouldn't you know it, panic set in as I realized, "hey, I might run out of money soon! And I'm not going to be in school in fall, so it won't be as acceptable to be broke!" This led to the unfortunate realization that I needed to get a j... a jo... a job. There, I said it. I finally did manage to secure one of these. Gone was the carefree lifestyle of the "unemployed college graduate." But at least I was getting some money now, and I wouldn't have to move into a cardboard box in the street. It was then that I finally took my first bold step into the real world, earning money on a regular basis, and living a normal, 8-5 life. As time progressed and I settled into the routine of the real world, it finally dawned on me: I have to get out!
Not that the real world doesn't have its advantages. First of all, you at least get some money. Believe it or not, your free time increases, too. Oh, sure, you might spend more hours per week in work than you did in class (a lot more time, for some of you) but after work, you can do whatever you want! It's great! Think about it: after you're finally done with a hard day of classes, you stagger home, and do homework and study. It never ends. At the end of a hard day of work, however, I get to take everything on my desk, put it aside, and forget about it! Try doing that in school! Of course, I came to the depressing realization that, now that I had time to have a life, I had no life. All of my friends had moved off to other places and taken jobs or gone to grad school. Believe me, it's hard to find the time to meet people when you're out of school. Oh, and just try taking a nap in the middle of the day! Bosses get so touchy about that! When I was still in school, the nap was the high point of the day, and it enabled me to subsist on less sleep in a week than people were supposed to get all night. Another supposed advantage of work over school: instead of staying up all night studying, you could stay up all night and party, without worrying about failing some exam! Of course, you have to get up at 5:30 in the morning to get ready for work, so maybe that isn't such a good idea.
I eventually came to the decision that I would get the hell out of the real world as soon as I could, and not come back until I had the training to do what I really wanted to do, which is be an unemployed billionaire. No, wait! I mean, be a doctor. So I've resumed my medical school and graduate school quest.
The first thing I discovered is that it's a lot easier to apply to graduate school, (a) when you have the money to pay for the staggeringly high, extortion-like application fees, and (b) when you have a job, which means you don't have to panic about what to do if you don't get in. These are both definite pluses. I also discovered, much to my surprise, that I was interested in, of all things, law school. I told this to my dad, who has never held lawyers in very high regard. In fact, I think he would rather have had me tell him I was considering any other profession.
ME: "Hey, Dad! I think I'm going to become a Colombian Drug Lord!"
DAD: "Great! As long as you're not a lawyer!"
My dad's boss, who is a lawyer, apparently thought that my possible career choice was the greatest thing she'd ever heard, a sort of divine retribution to my dad for all the lawyer jokes, and she proceeded to laugh her ass off at him. I guess it would be kind of like Tipper Gore finding that one of her daughters had become a lyricist for some heavy metal band. Come to think of it, that would be funny as hell. But I digress.
Actually, even though I might go to law school, I'd still like to get a medical degree. I always thought it would be good to work in health law and policy. Plus, if I ever got sued for malpractice, I'd be able to defend myself, and the way that courts are allowing frivolous law suits that punish doctors based upon verdicts based more upon emotion and less upon medical fact, I might need that ability. The major downside I see, however, is that I might one day catch a cold, attempt to gain relief by taking cold medicine, and if it didn't work, I might, in my delirium, sue myself for malpractice (which would only be made worse if I lost the case).
Plus, just because I had a law degree, doesn't mean I'd actually have to be a lawyer. I could be a scholar of law, or work in policy, or even become a congressman or senator (DAD: "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!")!!
Of course, I have to face the possibility that I won't actually get into grad school right away, and that I'll be doomed to remain in the real world for some time to come. This would mean that my only other avenue of escape from the real world would be: politics. God knows that politics has nothing to do whatsoever with the real world. I have been entertaining the notion of entering the realm of politics for quite some time. In what other profession could you be sleazy, unethical, and possibly criminal, and still get ahead? Hell, if you play your cards right, you can even engage in sex scandals! I could deal with that. I'd love to be President: all the power, respect, and status you could ever want, plus you could, technically, order a Marine invasion of Toledo if you wanted to, just because you're the President.
For now, however, I remain a minion of the real world, doomed to a five-day a week, 8-5 dreary existence as one of many in the rat race. In parting, I have one final bit of advice to those of you about to graduate and head out into the world: don't. MR
Geoff Brown graduated from U-M last May with a B.S. degree in biology, and is Editor Emeritus of the Review. As punishment for all of the anti-administration articles and features he ran as editor-in-chief, the God of Comedic Retribution has sentenced him to work for the University.