The Most Difficult Year to Get into College in the History of the World

AOL Ate My App

I normally am very fond of the wonderful innovations that engineers have brought into our lives.  On college tours, when I hear about the opportunities for students entering engineering programs, I can only dare to imagine how the future will be enhanced.  And I am particularly grateful to the creators of Wii Fit, (who surely attended top colleges), because my husband has now lost 27 pounds, sweating with his avatar in front of our television.

But tonight I have two major beefs with engineers.  First, let it be known that whoever invented hands-free cell phone headsets must have attended a lesser engineering school.  Ever since the new California law went into effect on July 1st, I haven't been able to understand anything that anyone says on a cell phone.  People driving on Sunset Boulevard sound like they're standing on top of Mount Everest during an electrical storm.  In fact, even though phones now do all sorts of amazing things like take photos, play music and search Wikipedia, the ability to actually have a conversation is a distant memory.  Makes me miss the days of cords and busy signals, because at least then we had decent reception.  I had thought that Call Waiting was the most annoying invention in recent telephone history, but that honor now goes to Blue Tooth.

My second issue with modern engineering is Typepad's new Compose Editor.  I just wrote a lengthy (for me) post about replacing my creams and gels in the CVS Pharmacy in Cooperstown.  But when I saved it, it disappeared.  That makes me consider the potential pitfalls of the Common App, which is submitted online.  What if a student spends 50 hours filling in an application (that won't be my son - just an example), then goes to save it...and it disappears?  Or how about if an applicant clicks the send button and the application never goes where it's supposed to?  Can we really trust quirky cyberspace, with viruses and porn floating around, to instantly deliver a student's application to the right school?  It's conceivable that your child's Common App could end up in the Admission Department's spam file.  Or exposed to non-secure servers everywhere.  Or permanently deleted.

It's enough to make you long for the days of registered mail.

The Power of Bunnies

Mr. NP and I had dinner tonight with four other couples.  Three out of the four are about to send their youngest children off to college.  The moms, who all seem to be dealing with the transition relatively well, are nonetheless forming a support group.  I can see how they will need it with the stress of their babies moving out.  Just trying to get Son #1 to begin to think about his essays is stressful enough.

I wanted to find some words of wisdom for my friends who are about to become empty nesters, so I scoured the web for some sensible advice.

And I found it on College Confidential:

05-04-2008, 07:38 PM	#1
marnik Junior Member Join Date: Nov 2007 Threads: 2 Posts: 71	Anxiety Is Beginning To Set In! As I begin reviewing "Parents' Orientation" schedules and "Student Orientation" schedules, the reality that my only daughter will be moving 2.5-3 hours away has me in the beginnings of a panic state. I do not let on to her, but gosh, this is way more difficult than I could have imagined. All the worries about getting in to college are now worries about how will she "do" college (probably very well without me nagging). I am so proud of her, and I know she will be fine. I think the worries are about how I will do.

05-04-2008, 07:45 PM	#2
Northstarmom Senior Member Join Date: Aug 2004 Threads: 310 Posts: 11,427	Before my last kid at home left for college, I found it very helpful to get a couple of pets so that I would not have to come home to an empty house.The pets I got are rabbits. They are quiet and cute, and stand on their hind legs to welcome me home (because they know I'll give them treats).

I have no doubt that Northstarmom knows what she's talking about.  Surely she is an expert parent because she has 11.427 posts on College Confidential.  It is a great relief to know that there will be a simple solution to the inevitable trauma I will be facing in four years, when Son #2 leaves the nest. 

Thank goodness for the internet - and for furry little creatures everywhere.

My Very Favorite SAT Score

I know that many of you are waiting to hear about our drive-through visit to Oberlin without CJ, as well as reflections on all those baseball games.

But I have heard from so many readers about the the ever-evolving SAT, that I feel obligated to devote a post to it.

First, a new study has shown that the new, almost-four hour SAT with the added Writing Section does not predict college succes.  However, it has given lots of business to tutors who claim they can teach a 16-year old to write a decent essay in 25 minutes.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/18/education/18sat.html

But the major news is that the folks at College Board have decided that students will no longer be required to send in all their lousy SAT scores to colleges.   Soon, as in the case of the kinder, gentler ACTs, test takers can choose to share only the scores they like.  This means that many kids will spend their entire high school career taking and retaking the SAT, until they are satisfied with their scores. 

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-sat21-2008jun21,0,1318580.story

Sadly for CJ, this new policy does not go into effect until March 2009, about a week after he finds out where he's going to college.  But this opens up all sorts of possibilities for our younger son.  He can start taking the SAT in ninth grade, and sign up for it up to seven times a year.  By the time he's a senior, he could have as many as 24 separate SAT attempts from which to choose.  This could get tedious and expensive (tutoring can cost over $350+ a week).  

But given the chance to take the test multiple times without the colleges finding out about the times he's bombed, he should end up with an excellent score.  Unfortunately, so will everyone else who can afford it.

Boo, Boo, Boo, Square Root of Two

Before the men met up with me in New York, to conteract all the high-testosterone activities to come, I spent a girly day with my sister - manicure, pedicure, haircut, street fair. 

And that evening I had a fabulous dinner near Grand Central with my two of my best friends from high school. (One of my dinner companions traveled in from Pound Ridge for the occasion.)  We went to Avra, a Greek seafood restaurant, where you can sit outside on a patio on a balmy night and dream about summering in Santorini, if your family ever outgrows baseball vacations.  You can also select your own fresh catch, in our case a delicious lavraki (branzino).  The New York Times gave the place a star, and called it "a blind date with a fish".

My friends are past the neurotic prospective parent phase - Their children have already graduated from college.  They both suggested that it might be more worthwhile to agonize over job placement than college admissions.  (One has a daughter who graduated from Barnard a year ago and still doesn't know what she wants to be...though she does have a well-written blog.)

We discussed how different "the process" had been when we were in high school - we couldn't remember owning college guide books, writing essays for our apps or even having guidance counselors.

But we did remember our SAT Prep.  Two of us had met during an evening class in a funky office above a pizza place.  Although we had attended different high schools, we went on to become lifelong friends.  And our teacher was destined for greatness: We were tutored by the pioneer and guru of standardized test preparation, Stanley H. Kaplan.  When asked what the "H" stood for, he would say "Higher Scores".

All I could remember about the historic course was that Stanley H. had to stop speaking whenever the subway came because the whole office rattled.  And I can recall him telling us, "If you girls would just shut up and listen, you'll get a 1600!" 

My friend had a stronger recollection.  She said Mr. Kaplan had taught us a mnemonic to remember a trigonometry formula - "Boo Boo, Square Root of Two".   She could not identify the formula, so she called her brother-in-law, a successful dentist with a great memory.  He too had never forgotten the phrase, but could not conjure up what it was supposed to help one remember - perhaps something related to a hypotenuse?

On to Google.  All I could find on the entire information highway was a 2001 New Yorker piece about Mr. Kaplan, which I vaguely recall reading seven years ago.  Fascinating stuff about the origins and sociology of standardized testing.

And sure enough, a "Boo, Boo, Boo" reference (It turns out there were three "boos", which could lead you astray during an exam, if you had memorized just "Boo Boo"):

http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2001/12/17/011217crat_atlarge?currentPage=all

Kaplan once determined that the testmakers were fond of geometric problems involving the Pythagorean theorem. So an entire generation of Kaplan students were taught “boo, boo, boo, square root of two,” to help them remember how the Pythagorean formula applies to an isosceles right triangle."

A nod to the past, but alas, no explanation.   Will we ever find out what exactly "Boo, boo, boo" stood for?  It might be worth an e-mail to Stanley H.

CJ Finds a Passion

It is not easy applying to colleges if you have no idea what you want to be when you grow up.  But serendipitously, after an idyllic day at Wrigley Field (Cubs vs. White Sox), CJ met a career role model on the plane from Chicago to New York: The Chaplain for the Yankees.  This gentleman proved to be an inspiration for all the males in my family, including Mr. NP.  CJ will now be checking out universities that offer a Sports/Divinity major and is hoping that there will be a spiritual opening on the Lakers in 2013. 

Roots and Wings

We are in Cleveland on the final leg of our "vacation", which has included six states, five ballparks, four colleges, three museums, two countries and one Wonder of the World. 

I am anxious to write about baseball, family bonding, and of course, to describe our two college drive-throughs. 

But first I must disclose that CJ is no longer traveling with us. 

Two days ago he received a text from a friend asking if he planned on attending a giant camp reunion scheduled for tonight in Malibu.  A creature of habit, he had attended the same camp for eight summers, starting when he was eight and culminating with a leadership program two years ago.  His lifelong friends and counselors, who somehow had received advance notice of this gathering, would be flying in from all over the country to attend.  

CJ asked (nicely) if he could go home a day early, even though the Indians are his favorite team (he was brainwashed at an early age by an old babysitter's boyfriend).  He's an upbeat kid who never whines or sulks, but he did seem terribly unhappy to miss the evening.  He said he would pay a change fee and basically be our slave for the rest of the summer if we let him fly back to LA a day early. 

As a neurotic parent, I assumed it was my fault that he had not heard about the reunion.  I probably had received something in the mail a month ago that remained unopened at the bottom of a pile of college brochures.  (But I have since found out that no adult has laid eyes on a formal invitation to the event.)

So, feeling guilty, we caved and allowed CJ to fly home from Detroit this morning without us.  He is now sitting around a campfire 2500 miles away.  And the rest of us are recovering from an iconic American vacation day (3.5 hours of driving, 3.5 hours at the Rock & Roll Hall of fame, 3.5 hours of baseball). 

Three of us playing cards in a hotel room: Is this a foreshadowing of what family life will be when CJ heads off to college?

Off-Season College Touring

Colleges campuses, covered with slush during "spring" break, are verdant paradises in the the summer with glistening ponds and gardens in full bloom  But the kids that you see throwing frisbees are mostly high school students enrolled in summer programs. 

And the tour guides are often from the B list. 

Case in point: The boys reported that their tour guide at Emory, a witty and articulate male, hit a trash can while walking backwards.  And our perky leader at Penn, clad in flip flops (as were all of her counterparts), did not even attempt to strut in reverse. 

We are pleased that colleges no longer discriminate against tour leaders with deficiencies in backwards walking.  But we hope that this affirmative action trend will not phase out one of the most impressive of collegiate talents.  What next - Tone deaf a cappella singers?

Freshman Year Abroad - Part II

CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY

I sat in the front row of the Penn information session, pondering the inspirational Ben Franklin quotes on the wall.  The charismatic admissions dean explained the university's commitment to both the theoretical and the practical.  He pointed out the many accomplishments of Penn students, including the recent success of a boy at Wharton who had invented ecological detergent pellets called Dropps, a sensation in the world of laundry.

But I could barely concentrate because of the presence of a large group of a world-reknowned boarding school students - 44 kids from the Minjok Leadership Academy of Korea, all copiously taking notes in English.  Their school had been featured on the front page of the New York Times (and also in this blog).  Minjok students achieve average SAT scores of over 2200 - even higher than top American prep schools like Andover and Exeter. Their secret? 15 hours a of study a day, no dating, and tongue lashes from their parents if they score below 100% on quizzes. 

The group was well behaved (although I did see a few yawns and squirms), but could use some leadership training in the world of fashion.  The boys, in head-to-toe light grey or brown polyester uniforms, looked as if they were wearing vintage Jetsons Halloween costumes. The girls wore collarless shirts with brass buttoms tucked into floor-length dirndl skirts, worn over baggy pants with bows at the ankles - like a Sound of Music-themed Project Runway challenge gone awry.

When the information session ended, we were split into groups.  We followed our enthusiastic dual-major tour guide, and the Minjok students headed off in the opposite direction.  But then we caught up with the group at the athletic field, where I struck up a conversation with one of their chaparones.

I told the chaperone (who was dressed in Lacoste and khakis) that I had read about Minjok in the New York Times and had even blogged about it.  It soon became obvious that he didn't understand a word I was saying, so I let him do the talking.  The group, he said, was on an American summer college tour for freshmen. This seemed a bit extreme to me, until I realized we had dragged our younger son, a rising freshman, along.  (Brown'16 seemed reasonably happy, even inspired, during the info session, but later told us he was smiling because he was silently quizzing himself about baseball statistics.) 

"So," I asked the Minjok chaparone, "How many kids are you sending to Penn in the fall?"

"Seven," he answered proudly.

"If our son attended your school would that help his chances for college?" I asked.

"Thank you very much," he responded. 

----

After the tour, we headed to Pat's for cheese steak (adults were underwhelmed, kids were in heaven).  Then we visited the Liberty Bell and the interactive National Constitution Center, which must have been designed by Penn students because it brilliantly integrates the theoretical and the practical, bringing history to life. (I had never seen my kids more enthusiastic about a museum until today, when we visited the Baseball Hall of Fame). 

We arrived back in New York in plenty of time to watch the Mets game - thankfully on television. 

And CJ, satisfied with the day although it had not included a live baseball game, seemed unfazed that the students of the Korean Minjok Leadership Academy have a better chance of getting into Penn than he does - unless he can come up with an improved laundry pellet by the end of the summer.

 

Freshman Year Abroad - Part I

After three baseball games in three days, we're on hiatus in New York.  (More about my new appreciation for baseball in a future post.)  The heat wave is over and the weather has been deliciously balmy, with only brief periods of mugginess and a few scattered thunderstorms (one of which positioned itself directly above Yankee Stadium during our game, causing a ninety-minute rain delay). 

Ah, June in New York - alfresco dining, long walks downtown, performances in the park.  We considered all the possibilities, then planned the ideal activity for our first baseball-free vacation day: An excursion to Philadelphia.

We had already toured the New York schools, and a visit to the east coast would be incomplete without yet another college tour.  So we cheerfully awoke at 6:30 AM (3:30 PDT), caught the 8:10 AM train and set off to check out Penn.

Our rail journey was relatively relaxing until our engine died somewhere near Trenton. We ended up arriving at the information session with just moments to spare. 

The room was packed and we had to split up.  I grabbed the last remaining seat - in the front row.  It took a few moments before I realized I was sitting in the middle of a group of 44 students from....drum roll: the Minjok Leadership Academy in Korea.

TO BE CONTINUED

(To fully appreciate this bizarre coincidence, please take a look at my 4/28 post before reading Part II.)

Georgia on their Minds

The boys had more to say about Emory than I expected to them to report:

- The university was founded by the Coca Cola Company (and there now is a museum honoring the beverage in downtown Atlanta).

 - CJ said I would like it (except maybe the Coca Cola part) because it's very diverse.

- You cannot tell you are in the south when on campus.

- The tour guide, a male, wore grey Pumas (I must disclose that I asked Mr. NP to take notice of footwear because I was curious about whether Uggs remained ubiquitous on campuses in the heat of the summer)  

And...most importantly:

- There are nine a cappella groups.

In truth, my family's impressions of Emory were overshadowed by the Braves game, (which included a not-very-PC tomahawk chop), 

And what male bonding trip would be compete without a a hotel evacuation - a false alarm, but it turns out the inn, now called the Ellis, had once been the site of the worst hotel fire in Atlanta's history. 

Yes, CJ managed to visit a college without me, and it was a bit like a tree falling in the forest.  Perhaps it is time for me to face the music – Not only is it unlikely that I will ever get all the details about the Emory information session, but sadly, I am destined to learn even less about CJ's college years.

Update: Mr. NP just read this and suddenly remembered another noteworthy fact about Emory - Salman Rushdie is on the faculty.  How cool is that? (And luckily for neurotic parents everywhere, the fatwa has been lifted.)

Report from the Field

The males of the family have embarked on the first leg of our baseball journey without me. They sound very happy and have reported that Atlanta is a cool town.  Their peak experiences so far:

-  Took the subway from the airport to their hotel

-  Found a good steakhouse

-  Hotel room has great flatscreen t.v. (but they said I would not like the hotel because their view is of a brick wall)

It is hitting me that, for me, this will not be one of those life-altering vacations.

No Room on the Tour

Ever since we decided to go on our baseball trip, we have spent every free moment on ebay, Craigslist and Stubhub, trying to procure tickets for sold-out games.  In most places, we've had decent luck, as long as we were willing to spend an arm and a leg. 

But the hardest ticket to get was to the Emory Tour & Information Session.  To be honest, Emory was not really on CJ's radar until their marketing people started bombarding him with brochures describing all sorts of cool opportunities.  Because he hadn't seen a school of that size, and because we were going to be in Atlanta anyway, we decided to sign up for a campus visit.

I called last Wednesday, and a lovely Southern receptionist told me that there were already 60 students signed up, and she could put us on a waitlist. 

(Who knew Emory was so hot?  I guess we should have realized - Whenever I mention Emory to someone who has been through the process, the response is always "Emory's a good school".) 

I am thrilled to report that today, after a week of sleepless nights and nail biting, we got the news that CJ was accepted off the waitlist and offered a spot on the tour!  

But our joy and relief was short-lived: I just found out that a work commitment will prevent me from traveling with the family on the first two legs of the trip, to Atlanta and Chicago.  Now I will meet the boys in New York, and miss the Braves, the Cubs - and worst of all, the sold-out Emory visit.  The idea of Mr. NP and the boys touring a college without me is unfathomable.  I just know that when I ask them how it went, they will say "Good," and leave me with nothing to blog about.

Proud Parents

We are honored to report that CJ got a perfect score on his Traffic School final exam.

This means he can drive to his job - not an internship designed to boost his resumé, but a regular paying job.  He is incredibly happy there, even though it means spending hours in traffic and giving up part of his summer weekends.  Now that he's finally earning a real paycheck, the furthest thing from his mind are essays, applications, senior course schedule and more SAT IIs. 

Just looked at the calendar and there are only eleven more weeks until school starts!  Before we know it, summer will be over and CJ will have to get everything completed overnight.  What nerve he has choosing to spend his vacation living in the moment rather than planning his future - Luckily he has at least one neurotic parent to worry about everything that he's not getting done.

Hot Tours in the Summertime

Sadly, now that CJ is practically a high school senior, our family vacation days might be numbered.  With that in mind, we told the boys that they could have a say in planning an impromptu June trip. 

Because of the demands of my non-blogging day job, we gave them the following parameters:

- No distant time zones

- Good Blackberry reception

- Possibility of using frequent flier miles

We suggested that the boys think about the Caribbean, Canada, New England or the National Parks.  But here is what they came up with:  A five-city baseball tour. 

So we're off next week to Atlanta, Chicago, The Bronx, Cleveland and Cooperstown.  (We have learned the secret to scoring mileage awards at the last minute: Go to places with treacherous heat waves, flash floods and tornadoes.)  Ironically we are returning to three of the spots that CJ and I recently visited on college tours.  But we will somehow manage to come up with a few more schools to check out, if only to see what the tour guides wear in the summer instead of Uggs.

When Blogs Collide

Before I became obsessed with the college process, I had a more interesting and rewarding passion - exotic travel.   My fascination with undiscovered places began on a Latin American odyssey beween undergraduate and graduate school (before they invented the term "gap year"), and since then I've made it a point of visiting ancient ruins or Indian markets or island paradises as often as possible.

Alas, for now my life has been reduced to planning jaunts to Ithaca, NY.  But it won't be long before once again I'm off to Ithaca, Greece.  Until that day comes, I vicariously plan vacations on the internet.  One of my favorite travel sites is www.fodors.com.  Thousands of fanatic travelers hang out on the Fodors discussion forum, ready to answer queries about the right hat to wear in Papua New Guinea or the best hut for baboon sightings in Botswana. 

Two years ago, the regulars on the Fodors Asian board proved to be invaluable in helping me plan a dream journey to Southeast Asia and Tokyo.  The vacation ended up being a collection of peak experiences, including a visit to a school in the Cambodian jungle and elephant-whisperer training on the Mehkong River. 

In gratitude, I wrote a long trip report, using the screen name "crosscheck" (which is what the pilot says just before a plane lands, although I'm not sure what it is they're checking).  In my report I shared hotel, restaurant and malaria med tips.  I also described the events that led to the purchase of my husband's favorite souvenir ever, an oscillating, self-cleaning Japanese toilet. 

My Fodors trip report was the only blog-like epic I had ever posted on the internet before this whole college thing started, honest.  So I am still in shock that somebody from the Fodors board a) found this blog and b) figured out that it was written by the purchaser of the toilet. 

Here's what happened.  I went to the Fodor's Asian board discovered the trip report of a family that had visited the same places where we had gone:

Author: crosscheck Date: 06/05/2008, 01:06 am Hi jgg - I haven't been on Fodor's for several months (because I've been compulsively planning college tours) and just discovered this thread. As you know, we went to the exact same places for the same amt. of time. Will read and comment soon!

Author: jgg
Date: 06/05/2008, 01:31 am

crosscheck - I definitely remember!! Your's was the first trip report I read when I started to plan our trip, and the only one I got my hubby to read!! LOL!

Hope you write a trip report on the college trip. My daughter will be a junior next year and I think we will be doing that trip next summer!! BTW, a friend just told me about this blog www.theneuroticparent.com. I suspect you will find things to relate to and laugh your head off. In all honesty, as I recall your style of writing, you could very well be the author!!!

---

Author: bmttokyo
Date: 06/05/2008, 02:25 am

jgg,

A is also entering Jr year in the Fall & I am already starting to plan on the Campus tours but am a little disadvantaged being in TKY. Will do my best to do what we can from here.

Will read the neuroticparent in good time.
Thanks for the tip !!!

---

Author: jgg
Date: 06/05/2008, 12:17 pm

Just be sure you do THEneuroticparent and not just neurotic parent, or you will be on the blog of the parent of a toddler, rather than reading about the trials and tribulations of the parent of a junior in highschool!!

---

Author: crosscheck
Date: 06/06/2008, 12:04 am

Wow, jgg. You deserve a PhD in Comparative Blogature.

And I thought the web was supposed to be a fairly large place. My 14-year just said that this is "too insane a coincidence" and told me to make sure the doors are locked.

I guess it is time to confess to my fellow Fodorites: I, crosscheck, am also the Neurotic Parent. I have left the world of ancient ruins and spicy food for the world of beer pong and a cappella groups.

---

Author: Kristina
Date: 06/06/2008, 12:19 am

jgg and crosscheck-that has to me one of the strangest examples of "small world" I have seen in a long time! How funny...

---

For the rest of this thread, go to 

http://www.fodors.com/forums/threadselect.jsp?fid=27 

My younger son, Brown'16, thinks that jgg is an internet stalker who uses IP addresses to find people.  But she seems too nice for that.  I can't believe that someone who agonized over the correct footwear to wear while riding an elephant would spend her time linking blog styles unless it were for the good of society.  In fact, I'm the one who's the bad guy on her thread - I caused her upbeat Asian narrative to deteriorate into a discussion of college admissions drama.

The Neorotic Parent Institute suspects that jgg, who lives in Southern Oregon, is a graduate student in the new, multidisciplinary field of Blog Forensics.  She must have noticed my excessive use of dashes and parentheses when, as crosscheck, I was describing our toilet's airdrying capabilities - (in addition to the heated seat).  Then, using advanced neurolinguistic research methods enhanced with zen concentration developed during her Asian travels, sent out mindful energy to neurotic in New York, who provided her with this link. 

Congratulations, jgg.  You are on your way to receiving a Fulbright in this exciting new field.  And welcome to our new Fodors readers.  I dare to report that there's another trip coming up.

 

 acquaintances

I Want My MTV Internship

A friend's daughter recently graduated from Rice, one of the finest universities in the nation (despite a name that's a little too heavy in carbs).  This cum laude student, who studied English Literature, is thrilled with her new job as a casting assistant on an MTV reality show in New York. 

Another friend's son, a rising sophomore at Brown, is home in Los Angeles for the summer.  He is one of those talented, charismatic kids who could get a job anywhere.  His summer internship?  A gofer on an MTV reality show. 

And yesterday I heard about the brilliant sister of one of CJ's friends, who is undecided about her undergraduate major at Penn, but is fairly certain that she wants to be a physician.  She had the opportunity to do genome research at UCLA this summer.  Instead, guess where she's working.

Yes, college kids across the nation are shunning community service trips to Malawi and apprenticeships at law firms, opting to prepare coffee for the crew of Pimp My Ride and Punk'd.   

(Disclaimer: I have not actually seen these shows because I can't find my MTV amidst 287 channels, but I'm sure they are of the highest quality.  I do remember the Addicted to Love video, though, and it was awesome.)

The MTV career trend should come as a great relief to neurotic parents everywhere.  Surely it should not matter which college your son or daughter attends if his or her ambition is to end up as a P.A. on Jackass.   But, according to the Neurotic Parent Institute, that is not the case.  In a surprising study, 93%  of the support staff on The Real World attended Harvard, Princeton or Yale.  That means students from less-prestigious colleges have been forced to seek work in the real real world instead.

How should a student prepare for one of these 21st Century dream jobs?  According to Dr. Gordon A. Power, Academic Dean at Stanford, the best choice of majors would vary from show to show.  He suggested the following:

Pimp My Ride - Mechanical Engineering

Jackass - Trauma Psychology (M.S. preferred)

Punk'd - Cultural Anthropology

Celebrity Rap Star - Musicology

Dr. Power also advised not limiting one's options to MTV.  He encouraged recent grads to explore related opportunities on programs such as Pussycat Dolls' Girlicious on CW, appropriate for those pursuing Women Studies.

But the true victims of the MTV job glut are those students who slacked off watching MTV reality shows while in high school.  These kids, unlike their Ivy League counterparts, stand little or no chance of ever working on Viva la Bam.   Sadly, disillusioned students from second and third tier schools will now be forced to find employment at less desirable places like Intel or Goldman Sachs. 

Neurotic Googling

This blog is now "public".

That means you can now find it by going to Google and typing in a phrase that's related (or not) to college angst.  Now normal people with legitimate queries about the Princeton waitlist are being led to this site. 

I am pleased to report that Typepad has a cool "big brother" feature which lets me know exactly what people are googling before they are referred to theneuroticparent.  Here are some of the requests:

1) best cell phone for cornell

2) most obnoxious parents

3) nyu flags taking over new york

4) how can i get accepted off duke med waitlist 2008

5) williams prestige

6) waitlisted at wash u tufts syndrome

7) kenyon vs. oberlin acapela (sic)

8) cows near hamilton ny

9) sat summer study korea average score increase

and....drum roll:

10) nashville underwear

Closing of Homeless Shelter Leaves Resume Padders with Nowhere to Turn

http://www.theonion.com/content/news/closing_of_homeless_shelter_leaves

Commencement

On Tuesday, I had the honor of attending our school's Commencement Exercises, the future-oriented euphemism for what the rest of the world calls graduation.  Although there were four kids commencing who I had known for their entire lives, I was not there as a guest, but as a volunteer.  The tradition at our school is for parents of juniors to host the reception for the senior class.  As families of the kids on deck, we were expected to decorate the soccer field and provide freshly-baked cookies and fruit for after the ceremony. 

Even though it was not my child commencing, it was surreal and extremely moving to hear grown-up speeches given by CJ's former T-ball teammates and world-class musical performances by students I have known since birth or kindergarten.  I also had the important assignment of collecting the commencees' caps and gowns after the ceremony and handing out the real diplomas - to replace the faux scrolls given to them by the headmaster. 

(As part of those volunteer duties, I sadly had to tell a few kids that their diplomas were being withheld because they hadn't returned library books or team uniforms - no excuses accepted...their first real life lesson.)

As I witnessed and participated in this emotional rite of passage, instead of reflecting on what's in store for these kids for the future, all I could think about was whether there would be enough baked goods at our reception.

The stakes were high, you see, because in 2001, we had hosted a reception for the same class, then fifth graders, when they moved up from elementary to middle school.  And the event that we put on as fourth grade parents was marred by an unforgettable glitch: we had run out of chicken wings.  In fact, there was such a severe h'or deurve shortage, that we had to order pizza for the kids, who were staying at the school for a party.  (Since then the procedure has been simplified - no finger foods, just baked goods.) 

Now, seven years later, could we redeem ourselves?

I am pleased to report, with relief, that our reception was lovely. The floral decor - lemons and succulents -  was understated and classy, and there were even several extra trays of cookies.  The only minor issue was that a strong breeze flapped the tablecloths around a bit, but that was hard to avoid because our soccer field is situated in a micro-climate - It often is warm and sunny on all the surrounding streets, while the bleachers are ravaged by gale-force winds.  

So, not only is CJ now just about finished with the stress of junior year, but the parents of the class of 2009 are almost done with the stress of having to show off our catering skills to the class of 2008.  

Onward, you amazing kids!  And may you always have enough chicken wings.

Making the Cut: The Right Preschool = The Right College

CJ graduated from TI Preschool in 1995.  Last night we had a reunion barbeque with five other TI families, all with sons who had been CJ's best friends when they were three, four and five. 

Our get-together was a celebration of the high school graduation of the three older boys, who were born in the summer of 1990.   (The three younger boys, including CJ, were born in the fall of 1990.  They attended Pre-K and started elementary school a year later than their friends because they missed the cut-off for kindergarten - they now have another year of high school to go.)

One of the families put together a fabulous video of TI highlights, which we watched twice.  Wiping away tears, we saw our wide-eyed sons on a field trip to the fire station and proudly wearing jeweled crowns on their birthdays.  Our boys looked so tiny and adorable in this montage that, as one of the moms pointed out, it was almost impossible to believe that the big, hairy men sprawled out on the couch were the same people.

The evening was not just nostalgic, but also provided hope. The graduates' list of collective college acceptances was so impressive that one would never guess that this is the most difficult year to get into college in the history of the world.  One boy is headed to Tufts, admitted Early Decision II.  Another will be attending UCLA.  And the third has enrolled in Oberlin (after getting into all the schools he applied to, and choosing between Wesleyan, Vassar, Reed, Kenyon and McGill) - but first he is taking an inspirational gap year - part Keroac road trip, part Katrina volunteer. 

Was it a coincidence that these kids all did so well?  Probably not: The parents of the three graduates insisted that all the kids who attended TI Preschool got into phenomenal colleges. 

So what was it about TI Preschool that gave our kids such an impressive head start?  This was a school that offered very little in the way of traditional academics.  There was no counting and I don't even remember the students singing the alphabet.  The teachers were not particularly scholarly - one has been recently sighted working as a bagger at a local supermarket.  What, then, was TI Preschool's secret?  

A preliminary study by the Neurotic Parent Institute sponsored a preliminary study and has discovered that the TI curriculum was primarly comprised of the following:

1. Singing

2. Cooking

3. Sand Play

4. Guinea Pig Care

5. Holiday Celebrations

Sounds like fun, but certainly these were not the learning endeavors that sent our boys to Tufts, UCLA and Oberlin. 

Then, after more intensive research, we discovered the answer: Scissors.

Yes, TI preschool emphasized cutting skills.  So much so, that during one of our parent/teacher conferences, CJ's teacher presented us with a work sheet on which CJ had attempted to cut along a dotted line, but instead had cut a haphazard, zig zag design on the opposite edge of the paper.

We were horrified, but it only got worse.  For comparison, the teacher showed us an sample of CJ's friend's cutting: perfect - right on the line.  (That expert cutter was the one who is now bound for Tufts.) 

Then the teacher sternly asked if we owned scissors and instructed us to go home and start CJ on an intensive practice regime.  At first we contemplated hiring a cutting tutor, but fortunately we had both remembered enough about shears from our own preschool days to help our son on our own. 

CJ worked so hard perfecting his scissors skills that by the time he started kindergarten, he was cutting right on, or at least near, the dotted line - You never would have guessed that he had overcome such a severe disability.

And I guess that by next year, we will find out if that early cutting intervention paid off.

Helplessly Hoping

Courtesy of Brown's a cappella group, this is dedicated to students on waitlists everywhere:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EaZB4ey7a8&feature=related

Waitlist Donor Bank

Recently, the Neurotic Parent received the following comments from readers:

I have a niece who got into Middlebury off the waitlist and gave up her slot at Hamilton and her brother got into Emerson off the waitlist, which opens up a slot at Northeastern.  How long do you think it will be before you know who got their spots?

and

It was actually our Oberlin-bound DGC (Dylan-Ginsberg Clone) who happily gave up his Vassar space for the Santa Barbara girl.

These comments reflect a new trend that is unfolding for students who are admitted to their dream colleges from waitlists.  Mere acceptance was once cause enough for celebration.  But now many waitlist recipients feel a need to know the identity of the anonymous donors who made it possible for them to enroll at their reach schools.

With this in mind, the Neurotic Parent Institute has started a new foundation, Waitlist Donor Trace.  Using cutting-edge research methods, we will locate the girl or boy who gave your child the gift of matriculation.  And for a nominal fee, you can receive periodic updates about how your donor is faring at the better school that let him or her in at the last moment. 

We are also starting a Waitlist Donor Bank.  Top students can now be proactive in giving a lucky girl or boy their hand-me-down acceptances.  

So, if you are someone like Mr. 2400, CJ's friend who just achieved a perfect score on the SAT, here's a simple strategy that could potentially touch the lives of thousands of students all over the world:  Apply to eighteen colleges.  You will probably be accepted at sixteen.  Send in deposits to every college that accepts you.  Then, when you get the call from Harvard or Princeton, you can provide places to sixteen lucky waitlist recipients.  Not only do you get to go to a prestigious school, but you can also help other human beings in limbo, like the Middlebury and Emerson kids mentioned above.  

This act of selflessness will take much less effort than going to Namibia to work with the baboons, and will give you the incomporable satisfaction of having made a difference in the life of an eleventh grader who has had to overcome the misfortune of having been born in 1990 or 1991.

 

Shocking Waitlist News

This is Waitlist Week on my blog, so I must extend a big thank you to the four readers who sent me the link to this piece from the Wall Street Journal - "Elite Colleges Reach Deeper into Wait Lists":

http://online.wsj.com/article_email/SB121132542836108695-lMyQjAxMDI4MTIxMjMyMjI1Wj.html

This article reiterates the "heightened waitlist activity" theory discussed yesterday, and I must confess that at first it did not seem blog-worthy.  But after reading just a few sentences, I uncovered a truly surprising development: I've been spelling "wait list" incorrectly for the entire history of this blog. 

Here is the final paragraph of the article:

To be sure, not all schools are seeing increases in their numbers of wait-list offers. Stanford University, for instance has taken zero students from the wait list so far this year, the same as last year. "We are keeping a small number on the wait list just to respond to other wait list activity around the nation," says Rick Shaw, dean of undergraduate admission and financial aid.

 

As you can see, wait list as a noun is written as two words.  (I had suspected this whenever I spell checked, but assumed that typepad was not on the cutting edge of college vernacular.)  And wait-list as an adjective is hyphenated.  So what is the deal in the last sentence, where wait list is missing a hyphen before the word activity?  Even a high school junior could tell you that it's an adjective there. 

 

Did the WSJ spell "waitlist" incorrectly just to distract readers from the Stanford dean's weird logic - that they're maintaining a waitlist just to keep up with the activity back east?  Do they really think that students who have sent in their money to Stanford would give it up to spend four frigid long winters at a university that kept them hanging?  I don't think so. 

 

I guess I should write an email to the Journal to find out the answer to the wait list/wait-list mystery.  But I am afraid that they will think I'm one of those people who has too much time on her hands - I can imagine the editors laughing about my query: "That crazy neurotic parent - She should be reading about our hedge fund picks instead of worrying about missing hyphens".

 

So if you are a copy editor, I am waiting to hear from you.  And, until I have definitive information, I will continue to spell "waitlist" as one anxiety-provoking hyphenless word. 

 

 

 

 

 

Six Degrees of Waitlist Separation

Mr. NP and I are in Santa Barbara for a short, childless getaway.  Before we left home, we heard about two kids we know who were just admitted from waitlists into the colleges of their dreams.  One, a boy from CJ's school, was accepted at Georgetown after planning to go to Tufts.  Another, our friend's niece, was all set to go to Syracuse, until a week ago when she was offered a spot at Skidmore. 

Last night at dinner in a romantic garden patio, we were seated next to a table of loud talkers.  Their conversation topic, of course, was colleges.  The female loud talker mentioned that there would be a lot of waitlist activity this year.  Harvard and Princeton had announced they would each accept 90 students from their waitlists, and this would cause a ripple effect, extending to all the universities in the world.  Her cousin's son had just gotten into Princeton, she said, and he would now give up his spot at his second-choice school.  Where had he planned on going before he had the good fortune to be un-waitlisted?  Georgetown.  Yes, without a doubt, he had opened a place for the boy from our school.

Then the male loud talker told the group, with authority, that although this was an extremely competitive year for college admissions, students from Santa Barbara public schools had done very well. In fact, he had just heard of a local girl who just gotten into Vasser off the waitlist. 

At this point, our waiter approached us to see if we wanted more wine, and we had to stop eavesdropping.  But if we had continued to listen to the loud talkers, we're certain they would have revealed that the Vassar girl had provided the spot at Skidmore for our friend's niece.

Oops - There's Another Neurotic Parent

In my haste to book our twelve-city college tour, I neglected to check whether somebody already owned the domain name "Neurotic Parent" (a screen name I have been using in the blogosphere for years).  As a result, people have tried to find this blog and have ended up on the site of the germ-phobic dad of a toddler.  Instead of finding valuable information about a cappella groups or beer pong, many of my readers have been forced to read about diaper rash and toxic sippy cups. 

To clear this up, I will now be known as "The Neurotic Parent".  (In the tradition of Ray's Pizza, I was going to be "Famous Original Neurotic Parent", because I guarantee that I was angst-ridden about parenting before the diaper rash dad, but everyone knows that four words are too many for a URL.) 

From now on, you can still find me here at typepad, but also, thanks to CJ's friend CG (Computer Genius), you can go straight to the easy-to-remember www.TheNeuroticParent.com

Please don't tell my husband, but I went on an out-of-control shopping spree on the domain name site.  They were having a sale and I scooped up a few bargains, so you can also try www.neuroticparent.net or www.neuroticparent.org or www.neurotic-parent.com

Meanwhile, I would appreciate hearing from (Ivy-educated) I.P. attorneys.  Please let me know when it's okay to start marketing "The Neurotic Parent" mugs and sweatshirts.

Rubber Seoul

High School Juniors - Contemplating getting a job at Jamba Juice this summer?  Or maybe taking an art class at a local community college?  How about working on a presidential campaign?  Think again.  Are those really the best choices for your future?

Instead, for only 10 million won ($9,617 US, plus room and board), you can take a two-month, seven-day a week, ten-hour a day SAT prep course in Korea.  (95% of the students are from overseas. A friend's friend's son from Newport Beach has enrolled - will let you know his scores.)  But you'd better sign up soon.  Last year's classes sold out in April.

http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/nation/nation_view.asp?newsIdx=6610&categoryCode=117

Sincere Apologies to Case Western Reserve

Minutes after posting yesterday about how Case Western Reserve's name was "ridiculous", I received this email from a dear friend, the wife of a Witty Internist (WI):

>> Did you know that WI did his internship at Case Western?  I've even
>> visited it with him, he loved it so much.  It was the most memorable
>> learning experience in his amazing academic career (Williams, Mt.
>> Sinai, Case Western).

More memorable than Williams?  I immediately responded that I would publish a retraction.  Of course, I hadn't said anything about the quality of education at Case, just that it had a dumb name.  The Neurotic Parent position is that even if you can get over the miliary-sounding "reserve" part, there is nothing about Cleveland that is remotely western. 

But it is west of Connecticut.  According to Wikipedia, which I do not endorse for students (but I use often), the university was formed in 1967.  The school is a federation of Case Institute of Technology, founded by philanthropist Leonard Case Jr., and Western Reserve University, originally the Western Reserve College, in the area that was once the Connecticut Western Reserve. (Back in the day when CT was 500 miles wide - Must be why there are now multiple Talbot stores in Cincinnati.)

Case does seem to be a wonderful school.  U.S. News ranks its undergraduate program #1 in Ohio, #41 among national universities, #21 for its medical school and #7 for biomedical engineering programs.  The Princeton Review is not so kind, however, naming it #19 for unhappiest students. 

Clearly they're unhappy about the name of their college.

Yes, the Wikipedia entry about Case has a prominent subheading about a "Naming Controversy".  In 2003, it reports, the university unveiled a new logo that emphasized the "Case" portion of its name.  Three years later a task force reported that the branding campaign had been a disaster.  There were "serious concerns...about the university's ability to recruit and maintain high-quality faculty, fund-raising and leadership." In 2007, the trustees approved going back to giving equal weight to "Case" and "Western Reserve". A new logo was chosen and the president, who resigned shortly thereafter, said that the no-nonsense "Case" did not "smell as sweet to many people" that "the university had misplaced its own history and traditions".

As a goodwill gesture, the Neurotic Parent Institute has just completed our own task force on the matter.  After much analysis, our recommendation is that the university simply use its initials, CWRU (which are very collegiate sounding - almost like "crew").  Then it will not offend anyone because it will stand for nothing.  And, as a bonus, it should attract more students from Eastern Europe and other regions with limited vowels.

Bloggers Unite for Human Rights

Today, May 15th, is Blogging for Hope Day.   

http://unite.blogcatalog.com/

Bloggers everywhere are supposed to stray from their usual topics and encourage readers to take action to stop the shocking human rights violations in the world. 

I heard about this effort early in the morning on CNN in a hotel, where I was attending a non blog-related conference.  At first I wondered if this Human Rights Awareness campaign applied to bloggers like me.  But then CNN correspondent Alina Cho, a graduate of Northwestern, clarified:

"Even if you are a neurotic parent who writes a satirical blog about the college admissions process," she said, "it is your duty to blog for hope today." 

So I am asking each of you to cut one college from your son's and daughter's lists and send the money that you would have spent on that application to Oxfam instead.  (If you are unsure about which college to eliminate, I would suggest Case Western Reserve, the college with the most ridiculous name of them all - Is it a naval militia or a university? And how, by any stretch of the imagination, is it "western"?  Even compared to the geographically-misleading Northwestern, it is eastern.) 

Below is Oxfam's link for donating money to Cyclone Relief in Myanmar.  We visited Myanmar on a day trip from Thailand last year and fell in love with the people, particularly the children.  (But we didn't know what to call them - Myanmarese?  Burmese was so much simpler; the military junta must have used the same branding company as Case Western Reserve.) 

Things were bad enough in Myanmar human rights-wise before a cyclone killed 100,000 people.  Unless you like getting depressed, don't look at any of the photos of the tragedy.  Al Gore says the cyclone was caused by global warming, but we'll save that issue for Blogging for Icebergs Day.

https://donate.oxfamamerica.org/02/myanmar

It will take two minutes to click and send your money to people who really, really need it.  Then you can get back to your usual neuroses.  For me, remembering those beautiful children in Myanmar puts things in context: Getting into college may be a surreal and annoying process, but the bottom line is that our kids are extremely lucky to be part of it. 

And a final note to college admissions officers: Take a moment to think about the human rights of stressed-out high school-age students and cut them some slack - they deserve to enjoy their teenage years.

Survival Tips from the Other Side

Last night was Senior Talk, an annual event at our school when seniors reflect on their high school experience and give advice to younger students and anxious parents.

(Ironically, although much of the imparted wisdom was directed at juniors, there was not one in attendance - they were all at home studying.  Brown'16 was mildly interested at first, but wanted to leave after thirty minutes because he had just come from baseball practice and was disappointed that there were no snacks.)   

The panel, eight articulate kids who have just completed the college application process, will soon be attending an impressive range of schools -Wesleyan, NYU, Tufts, Northwestern, Duke, Lewis & Clark, Stanford and Tulane.

Surprisingly, the panel's suggestions proved to be a combination of Buddhist philosophy and advice my grandmother gave me: 

1.  Enjoy your senior year.

2.  Become friends with your teachers.

3. Take advantage of your free periods to get your homework done.

4. Take Physiology, even if you suck at science. 

5. There isn't just one right college; you can be happy in many places.

6.  Sign up to do things that you love, rather than activities which you think you will look good on your resume.

7.  Read a lot - not Spark notes, but real books.

8.  Be a good person.

9.  Live in the moment.

10.  Get enough sleep (Honest - I actually witnessed teens earnestly advising other teens to get enough sleep.)

What made these seniors so wise and rational?  Not the presence of their college counselors - they've already hit them up for recommendations.  According to the Neurotic Parent Institute, this was a classic example of PATM - Post-AcceptanceTemporary Maturity, a phenomenon which occurs during the four months between the arrival of the first fat envelope and matriculation into college. This is the only period in their lives when teenagers seem sane and capable of doling out conventional wisdom.   

But mark my words - As soon as they get to college, no more PATM.  By the end of the summer, these grounded zen-like kids will be reading Spark notes, pulling all nighters and living in the future once again.

Shaq's Shoe: Off-topic

Tonight we are celebrating, because after decades of never winning anything, I just found out I am the proud owner of a priceless raffle item - a size 22 basketball sneaker, autographed by Shaquille O'Neal.

Back to college angst tomorrow.

Fearful at Oberlin

Oberlin has come up with a new marketing catch phrase.  Until recently it was “Think one person can change the world?  So do we.”  The replacement slogan is "We are Oberlin.  Fearless."

Many Oberlin students are not happy with the campaign.  They have told the administration that they do, in fact, have fears and they would rather go back to changing the world.  I would have to agree.  I have an extraordinary friend who graduated from Oberlin.  She has truly made her mark on the planet in more ways than one, but is afraid of sitting in the center seat on an airplane.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90111749

Conversation with the College Board: Critical Reasoning Experts

Here is a transcript of a telephone conversation I had yesterday with Operator #25987653 at the College Board:

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR:  Hello.  You have reached the College Board.  Please have your credit card ready.  This call may be recorded for quality-assurance purposes.

NEUROTIC PARENT:  Hi, My son is signed up to take the SAT Reasoning Test in June and he would like to take the SAT Subject Tests instead.

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR: There will be a $21 charge to change.

NEUROTIC PARENT: That's fine.

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR: And there will be a $57 charge for the new exam.  What is your first and second choice for a test center?

NEUROTIC PARENT: My son just wants to change his test type, not his test center.

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR: I'm sorry.  That test center is full.  But we do have other centers that might be open in your area.

NEUROTIC PARENT: But he is already signed up at the center he wants.   Why can't he keep the spot he has?

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR: Because he is switching test types.  There might not be enough SAT II test booklets at his test center.

NEUROTIC PARENT: Aren't you the ones who provide the test booklets?  Couldn't you send one to his test center?  What if we paid you $42 instead of $21?  That would cover the cost of postage.

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR: That is impossible.  But I can offer your son a spot at Frances Dorito High or Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception of the Sacred Heart.

NEUROTIC PARENT: Where are those?

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR: We do not have the exact locations on file, but our records show they are in your area.  There also might be an opening in Phoenix.

NEUROTIC PARENT: But that is 400 miles away.  Why can't he just take the exam where he signed up to take it?

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR: Once he cancels, he will lose his space.

NEUROTIC PARENT:  He does not want to cancel.  He just wants to change from the SATI to the SATII.  And by the way, if you're canceling and rebooking, why are you charging a change fee?

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR:  Because if V = 21R / (r + R) , then R = Vr / (12 - V).  But if you pay an additional $87, there is an opening on the wait list at San Bernardino High.  However, there are no guarantees that your son will get the exam of his choice.  That means that if he signs up for an SATII in U.S. History, he might have to take Korean instead.  And he will have to arrive at 5:45 in the morning and take the test in the boys' bathroom. 

NEUROTIC PARENT: If he has to drive to San Bernardino at 4:00 in the morning, he might get stressed out and bomb the exams.  And that could ruin his entire future. 

COLLEGE BOARD OPERATOR:  Tell me about it.  I've had this job for seven years, but it seems like only yesterday that my own mom got angry with a College Board Operator.  Remember, this call is being recorded.

The Most Famous College Essay on the Internet

Here is an essay, written by Hugh Gallagher, which won a Scholastic Press writing contest in 1990.  Mr. Gallagher subsequently sent the essay to NYU and was admitted.  (It is not clear if he submitted the essay as a writing sample or, according to an internet rumor, as his actual essay.)  After graduating, Gallagher released an album called "Bomb the Womb" and wrote a novel called "Teeth".

In order for the admissions staff of our college to get to know you, the applicant, better, we ask that you answer the following question: are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?


Gallagher 's Essay:

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.

Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants.

I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller 'number nine' and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400.

My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven.

I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

South by Southwest

I recently had lunch with my friend, Compulsive Swimmer (CS).  CS is well on the other side of the college admissions process.  Two of her children have graduated from college, one from Wash U St. Louis and one from Vanderbilt.  And the youngest is a junior at Penn.  CS and her husband, Triathelete Physician (TP), are enjoying life and building a gorgeous second home in Wyoming. 

Before we even had ordered, I began to pick CS's brain about colleges.  I told her that we had visited Vanderbilt and she began to rave about her daughter's experience there.

"Vanderbilt," she said with authority, "is a great mid-sized school in a fun city.  Of the three colleges my kids went to, I would have to say it's my favorite."

She paused, then revealed why: You can get to Nashville via a non-stop flight on Southwest Airlines.

"On Southwest," she explained, "you can rebook your flight ten times and they don't charge you anything.  You can use AmEx miles, and if you buy a packet of five round trips, you get free companion fares." 

I was impressed.  But there was even more. 

"You can check two bags and you don't have to pay a fee for excess baggage - In this day and age, all the other airlines allow you to check just one bag." 

She paused.  I hoped she would mention something about the academics at Vanderbilt,  But all she wanted to discuss was her favorite airline.

"I absolutely would not let my kids go to a school in a city that is not serviced by Southwest," she said, "Before applying anywhere, you should go to their website and see where they fly.  They have three nonstops a day to Nashville.  Wash U and Penn are good universities, but there is only one non-stop to St. Louis and to get to Philadelphia, you have to stop or change planes in Vegas."

Was I crazy to have let CJ look at schools in cities he would have to fly to on other airlines?  Clearly CS had let me in on a secret shared by neurotic parents in the know, a whole new reasonable way to select colleges.  And I publish it here, with the hope that the marketing people at Southwest are reading this blog and looking for a hot new place to spend their advertising dollars.

Overheard at Brown

Thanks to a reader for submitting this one.

Admissions Officer at a recent Brown Information Session:  At Brown, we pride ourselves on being a place for original thinkers.

Student (to his mom): We can go now.

We Know Where You Live

Every day, CJ gets mail from colleges.  All sorts of cool brochures appear in our mailbox, along with personalized letters inviting our son to come to a local information session or even a special day on campus for athletes.  CJ has even been getting mail from highly-competitive schools that turn town 85% of their applicants.  But they still want him to apply so they can become even more selective. 

On Friday, a 6"x8" glossy postcard arrived from a fine institution - Indiana University.  The front of the card has a photo of a cool-looking Jason Bateman lookalike, with a five-o'clock shadow and Prada glasses.  It says, in multiple cutting-edge fonts: "CJ, There's Life after 1040 Franklin Street" (our address). 

Here is the text on the other side of the card:

CJ,

We think you should have an amazing life.  See the world.  Be an Olympian.  Learn new languages.  Write new laws.  Create your masterpiece.  Save the environment.  Discover a cure.  Meet the Dalai Lama.  Start your own business.  Win the Nobel Prize.

Indiana University students get more than just college degrees.  Our brilliant faculty, innovate programs, incredible facilities, and rich resources inspire and nurture new ideas, creative vision and awe-inspiring achievements.

Where will you go from 1040 Franklin Street?   We invite you to start your journey in Bloomington. 

Wow.  I rushed into CJ's room and found him trying on beanies, because his friend had inadvertantly created a checkerboard pattern on his scalp while trying to give him a buzz cut. 

"Look at this," I said, "This came from a great school that not only thinks you should get a life and move out of here, but will also help you save the environment, meet the Dalai Lama and win the Nobel Prize."

"Don't I have to win a Nobel Prize before I apply?" he asked.

Not only did the people at Indiana view him as more than "Dear Occupant", I explained, but they also seemed realistic about when kids are supposed to do great things.  There he would not have to start his amazing life until after he has left home.

The Morning After: SAT Question of the Day

When students sign up to take the SAT, they can request that the College Board email a daily Question of the Day to their parents.  These sample questions are usually reminders that the Critical Reading section of the exam was designed for people in their forties or fifties who regularly read The New Yorker.  But today's question was contemporary - and provocative.  As students all over the world recover from the stress of yesterday's test, this SAT Question of the Day imparts a surprising message about the value of higher education.  Is the College Board, which forces kids to spend months and months studying vocabulary and equations they'll never use again in their lives, having an