i take with me memories of purple parking permits, the west campus shuttle, checking my pendaflex, over-due library books, trying to print from cec, lunches on delmar, friends who slept in their offices, miniature golf in lopata hall, the greenway talk, division iii basketball, and trying to convince dean russel that yet another engineering school rule should be changed.

finally, i would like to conclude, not with a memory, but with some advice. what would a graduation speech be without a little advice, right? anyway, this advice comes in the form of a verse delivered to the 1977 graduating class of lake forest college by theodore seuss geisel, better known to the world as dr. seuss - here's how it goes:

my uncle ordered popovers

from the restaurant's bill of fare.

and when they were served,

he regarded them

with a penetrating stare . . .

then he spoke great words of wisdom

as he sat there on that chair:

"to eat these things,"

said my uncle,

"you must excercise great care.

you may swallow down what's solid . . .

but . . .

you must spit out the air!"

and . . .

as you partake of the world's bill of fare,

that's darned good advice to follow.

do a lot of spitting out the hot air.

and be careful what you swallow.

thank you.