COLUMBUS _ The little
miscreant has only two years
left in high school and we’re
sweating the next step, that
leap off the cliff, college.
Fortunately, she’s a good
student. She tests well and
ever since she took her preliminary
college board exam,
scores of schools have sent her
letters and e-mails, inviting
her to take a look.
We’ve kept these correspondences,
on computer and
in envelopes, mostly without
reading them, but Sunday evening,
we decided to go through
the pile.
``Let’s see what you’ve got,’’
said Uncle Chet, our retired
teacher. He was sitting on the
couch and she spread brochures
on the coffee table and
rug before him, everything
from Adelphi to Yale.
``Ah, Bryn Mawr,’’ he picked
up a glossy sheet. ``I knew a
girl who went to Bryn Mawr
once.’’
``Why did she go only once?’’
I asked.
``Good
question,’’
he winced
at me. ``All
I know is
she was the
smartest girl
I ever went
to ...’
``Didn’t
Hillary go
to Bryn
Mawr?’’’’
Hon interjected.
``Wellesley,’’
I said.
``That’s
right.’’
``Well,
they’re both
hard to
spell,’’ said Uncle Chet. ``If you
ask me, if you can spell either
one, they ought to let you in.’’
``We should probably start
with state schools,’’ said Hon.
``Out-of-state schools are
going to be just as bad as
private schools,’’ said Uncle
Chet. ``But the SUNY schools
are good and they only cost an
arm, not a leg. It really depends
what you want to do,’’ as
he looked at the student.
She shrugged, ``I wish I
knew. It keeps changing.’’
``What do you like to do,’’ he
asked.
``Nothing related to washing
dishes,’’ I said.
``Thanks, Dad.’’
``Just kidding.’’
``No you’re not.’’
``She does like to argue,’’
I said. ``And she’s good at it.’’
``Lawyer,’’ he nodded. ``Well,
almost anything will do for undergrad.
You can go get a traditional
liberal arts education,
a smattering of everything, just
like I did.’’
``Where did you go,’’ she
asked.
``SUCO,’’ he said.
``He majored in sour hour,’’
I said.
``What’s sour hour?’’
``Only the first year,’’ he
said. ``After that, it was just a
minor.’’
``I think I want to go farther
away than Oneonta,’’ she suggested.
``She wants to travel, see
a little of the world,’’ Uncle
Chet said to himself, sorting
through the pile. ``Well, how
about this one, Finlandia University?’’
``Where’s that,’’ she asked.
``Finland, I guess,’’ he
scanned the sheet, looking for
an address.
``How about this one,’’ she
was looking at a brochure for
Cornell.
``Ivy League,’’ said Hon.
``What does that mean?’’
``Expensive,’’ I said.
``How expensive?’’ asked
Hon.
``Well, let’s see,’’ I was
at the laptop. ``Looks like ...
$52,414 a year.’’
``Can we afford that,’’ the
girl asked.
``For about 11 days,’’ I said.
``We’re getting nowhere fast,
but I know how we can narrow
this down,’’ Uncle Chet said to
her. ``Take the computer and
write a letter we can send to
all these schools. Tell them
a little about yourself, what
you’d like to study, and how
you don’t want to graduate
under a mountain of debt.
``That’ll be our bait and
we’ll see what we reel in.’’
___
Cooperstown News Bureau
Reporter Tom Grace is traveling
with his Uncle Chet, who he says
is imaginary. Grace’s column
appears every other week.
