Thus far commencement weekend equals a punctured pressure tank, well water all over basement, a heroic neighbor spending his entire workday replacing it, and voila--water in the pipes.

It equals two medical emergencies, one son's girlfriend who gets sweeter every time I see her, four enormous bundles of fresh asparagus, half a tank of gas, and three rose-breasted grosbeaks at the feeder.

It equals sitting in a school gym listening to eighteen-year-olds sing the pure harmonies of the Righteous Brothers. Listening to my own son sing a heart-wrenching Fountain of Wayne's song about a regular guy who keeps imagining that he's great. Listening to the students in the audience cheer and whistle and shout out encouragement. Listening to my nephew wonder if Paul's scholarship envelope contains a check for a million dollars.

And we still have two days to go before graduation. . . .