The Commencement Speaker Who Dared Tell the Truth

'Tis the season for college commencements. Proud parents and hungover graduates swelter in the hot sun as distinguished speakers implore them to "never stop learning" and to "reach for the stars."

By the way, a college's choice for its commencement speaker is a better indicator of its status than its US News & World Report ranking. The more prestigious institutes of higher learning bring in a Nobel Prize-winning artist, writer, or scientist to inspire the new graduates. Less-secure colleges grant honorary degrees to Captains of Industry and local politicos. There is less inspiration, but, hopefully, a hefty financial contribution from the grateful recipient.

What the newly-minted graduates need to hear at Commencement is not high-flying, cliched oratory, but down-to-earth advice as they venture from the ivy-covered Halls of Academe to the Post-It-covered walls of Cubicle World:

"Graduates, your life will change dramatically from this moment on. In college, you could roll out of bed at 7:45 AM, toss on shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, neglect personal hygiene, stroll across the Quad and still make that 8:00 class. In the Real World (not to be confused with the TV show), you need to rise and shine at 6:00, shower (body odor easily wafts over cubicle walls), shave your face or legs (or both, depending on your gender or sexual proclivity), and don "corporate casual" clothing (including those foot coverings called "socks" that you haven't worn since last winter).

But I can do all that in a half-hour. Why get up at the ungodly hour of 6:00, you may ask. Because your daily commute is not a stroll across the Quad any more. It's thirty minutes of hell in rush hour traffic or on crowded public transportation the stress of which at will likely undo the benefits of that deodorant that you hopefully remembered to apply earlier. Always carry a back-up supply of anti-perspirant in your brief case, kids. Your co-workers will thank you for it.

Your working day in Cubicle World will be very different from your average day here on campus. Instead of dull, boring lectures and seminars leavened by transmitting hilarious You Tube videos and snarky comments on your trusty laptops, you will sit through dull, boring meetings with Corporate IT monitoring your tweets and IMs for anything remotely obscene or non-complimentary toward management. Resist the temptation to photo-shop the head of a talking gerbil onto the body of the Corporate Safety Director no matter how rodent-like his beady eyes and protruding teeth. You achieved everlasting fame when you photo-shopped Yoda's head onto Professor Smith back in Econ 101 and everyone high-fived you after class when you added the caption, "Invisible hand, it is, driving markets to efficiency", but a stunt like that will get you a pink slip in Cubicle World.

Your working day will eventually end. After the homeward commute, you are starving. In college, you waltzed in to a Dining Hall, swiped your meal card, and food magically appeared. In the Real World, there is no Lady in the Hair Net replenishing the trays on the steam table. You are the Lady in the Hair Net and that Hamburger Helper isn't going to cook itself. Or buy itself either.

Sure, this sounds scary, you may say, but I will get paid in Cubicle World. I never got paid in college and it was hard getting credit from the drug dealer down on the corner.

Ponder this, graduates! Your annual starting salary will likely be less than a year's tuition, room, board, and expenses here at college. Is it worth all those early morning wake-ups, forced personal hygiene, uncomfortable clothes, and humorless corporate management?"

At this point, the Class of 2011 might rise as one and demand re-admission to college. The parents of the Class of 2011 rush the dais and dismember the Commencement Speaker Who Dared Tell The Truth. Most juries would consider it an act of justifiable homicide.