The New Year has dawned, and the Month of Resolutions has begun. I don't know where the idea of the New Year's Resolution began, and it doesn't really matter. It ties in nicely with the idea of celebrating the good of the previous year--or it's end, depending on your perspective--and getting a 'clean slate' for the upcoming year. Of course, all this resolution is a mixed bag: I see friends complaining that the gyms will be more crowded, which seems to emphasize the difference between physical health and moral health. I mean, a crowded gym is inconvenient, but isn't better if all people are physically healthy and not just you? But between the jokes and the guilt, I wonder (as I always do) what my resolution(s) should be.
When I was young, idealistic, and vain, I resolved to develop six-pack abs or the ability to dunk a basketball. Now those who know me might argue that I'm still idealistic and vain, and I know that I can at least get to a point where I can dunk a basketball, given unlimited hours in the gym and perhaps a specialized strength and conditioning coach. But those kinds of goals simply don't seem all that important anymore. Frankly, I'm more interested in still being able to fit in my pants by the New Year in 2014, and perhaps avoid any more cavities. But those are sad little resolutions. I'm not sure I want to even dignify them as 'New Years Resolutions.' Such goals simply qualify as the right thing to do.
When I imagine how life could be better, I'm sorry to say that I wish I could spend more time with my wife, with my kid, with my books, and writing (while I'm on the subject, this piece you're reading is actually proving very hard to write. I'm nowhere near my main point yet, and I'm spitting out words in lurches. In fact, many of you have moved on to the next reddit link by now. But I have to give it the--wait for it--'ol' college try'). I'm sorry to say those things because I remember how I swore even five years ago that I would never be the boring person who would want schmaltzy, sentimental things for himself. I was going to be eager, exciting, and urbane forever, dammit, and no questions asked. But, providentially, I recently found this article from the New York Times. Apparently, my condition is fairly universal. I just find different things exciting these days--namely, my wife, kid, reading and writing.
Sorry if that sounds preachy. I really intended it to be more of an excuse, or at least an apologetic explanation.
And, as a side note, for any friends I may have who are getting tired of hints from their family that they (the friends) should 'settle down' and have a few kids, I'll tell you why this happens...it's because having kids is really a great deal of fun. The challenges make it more that fun, even: it's really rewarding. So are the diversions and accomplishments of the unencumbered life, certainly. But, you know, food for thought.
In any case, resolutions. The phrase, 'give it the ol' college try' pops into my head every time I think about all the resolutions hanging in the balance right now. And I wondered why that phrase came into existence. Because if you apply that to my college experience, the ol' college try would involve rather more brooding, melancholy relationships, video games, and Pabst Blue Ribbon ($1.00 per can at Corby's in those days. Yes) than is strictly consistent with an all-out effort at something.
And to answer the questions in your head, yes I do claim to have begun both the emo and hipster social perspectives way back in 2003. You're welcome, world.
Applied to many of my co-workers, the ol' college try means a lot of skipping classes, doing the minimum school work necessary, beer drinking, and seeking...ahem...companionship from the opposite sex than an effort at, well, anything. I don't mean to disparage them. They are all fantastic and dedicated Marine Officers at this point. But it's clear that the new college try means something a little different from the old.
Frankly I don't know if the blame here lies on the current generation (so you can stop wagging your fingers, baby boomers). After all, I think most young people go to college these days as a natural extension of grade and high school. Where you used to need a high school diploma to have a chance at a career, now everyone feels that you need a college diploma to have the same chance. So it is a requirement, and what most practical people do with 'requirements' is fulfill them. And I along with all of my peers fulfilled that requirement--the amount of beer consumed is irrelevant. Furthermore, with the exception of something like an engineering, biochemistry, accounting, or economics degree, the focus of study isn't really that important as well. You have an equal chance at employment with either a history or psychology degree, unless you are seeking employment in that particular field--in which case, you'll need a lot more education than is provided by an undergraduate degree.
And if the degree, not the means to getting it, is the important thing, it stands to reason that there isn't much value to the college education one receives these days. I know, I know! Before you all get angry at me, I know that it teaches independence, and I know it is a feeder into the professional world, and I know that a degree from Harvard is worth more than one from a community college (and boy, do you pay for it!). Certainly a student who is hard-working enough to get accepted to Harvard and graduate is probably more likely to be a hardworking employee than one who graduates from the nearest directional state school. But because the Ivy League and it's peers are such magnet schools, and are so expensive to attend, it's difficult to tell whether a graduate bought or earned his/her degree--I mean, when a student with the money can hire any tutor and re-take the SAT as often as he/she wants (not to mention have his/her lawyer parent lobby for higher grades from his/her exclusive prep school), it muddies the water significantly. And with a associated directional state school, it's likewise difficult to tell whether the degree was earned or given out like candy.
I have many more complaints with the university system in the United States. Some of the issues that need to be addressed you can find here, but I certainly don't endorse the article. I just offer it as a valuable perspective. But whatever the reason, I think the value of a university degree (at least one not technical in nature) has been devalued. And so the phrase 'the ol' college try' has become a lie. Although history shows that universities have nearly always been playgrounds for rich kids who need just a little more shelter from the world, the academic reputation of the university was generated in the understanding that to go there and be successful, you had to really put forth effort. In the 19th Century, Harvard degrees really meant that the graduate had some kind of character--the ability to think clearly and logically, the ethics to follow through on ideas and thoughts, and the determination to achieve the highest measure of success possible. State schools weren't really comparable--they taught technical skills (such as Agriculture and Mechanics, or A&M). But a graduate from those schools was known to be extremely proficient in their chosen skill, someone who could solve technical problems and oversee technical tasks. They had the same character of being a clear and logical in their approach to their profession, both ethical and dedicated in the application of their skill. That character was earned because Universities, whether academic or technical, were hard to attend and maintained high standards academically and morally of their students. To have graduated one of those institutions, well, it really put you in elite company. It meant that you could really do something. See here for more explanation.
Giving something 'the ol' college try' by that perspective meant pursuing it will all the character, ethics and determination of a college graduate. It meant giving it your all--not just effort, but initiative and intelligence as well. It meant that you were certain to succeed, for if you didn't (i.e. a college graduate wouldn't have succeeded in your place) then the task in question was impossible.
But alas, between the exponential growth of colleges and universities at the college and state level and the grade inflation permitted by institutions that prefer the extra money coming in with more students to their academic integrity, it just doesn't mean much to have attended college any more. It means you've done the minimum. Sure, if your degree is from an Ivy League School or the equivalent then it means more than a degree from a low-tier state school. But it certainly doesn't mean enough to make the phrase 'the ol' college try' mean what it used to.
So if I have one serious resolution this year, it's to give my life the real ol' college try. The one that involves doing things wholeheartedly. And I think if I can do that I will probably not only still fit into my pants come 1 January 2013, but I'll be closer to my family, better read, and writing a lot more.
That's exactly the kind of life I want.
