Meeting a Milestone

   Milestones aren't what they used to be. Reader response to my column about becoming a senior citizen pointed that out. Depending on the organization, the official age could be 50, 55, 60, 62 or 65.
   Things used to be more cut and dry. In 1965 my friends and I graduated from high school. We all became college freshmen that fall. Each year we all became sophomores, junior and seniors. In 1969 we all graduated. 
   Today many high school students do double enrollment and are simultaneously high school seniors and college freshmen. A few advance placement courses and a summer class enable some achievers to enter college as sophomores. Others go a different direction. Work-study programs can stretch out the college career to five years or more. There are sequential courses that must be taken in order and are only offered one semester each year. The first course is usually in September, which means if the class is full students have to wait another year to get with the program.
   They no longer touch base each May with the clearly defined labels of the past. We now have expressions like "third semester freshman," "fifth year senior" and "six-year program."
   Even special events are no longer the milestones they used to be. The senior prom in high school and the senior dinner dance in college have evolved into a helix of happenings that just swirl around each other: Homecoming. Holiday balls. Spring formals. Rush Week. Chicago's "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?" rings truer now than it did in the 60's.
   But in our family, one holiday has had its way of reminding where we are in time. We've always been big on Halloween. Many times we've won prizes at parties for our costumes and we can pinpoint the years by the costumes we wore. So when Leif asked me for ideas for his first Halloween party at Georgia Tech, I suggested he be bold and go as a Viking.
   No, he said, it was too easy and too obvious. Instead, he was the Jolly Green Giant and a vertically challenged fraternity brother joined him as Little Green Sprout. 
   And so it went all through college. Each year I'd suggest he be a Viking. And each year he'd be the Incredible Hulk or Superman or anything that seemed more imaginative for someone named Leif Larson to be. 
   But this year, something's a little different. He's been counting up his credits. He's been putting aside all the brochures that come in for class rings. He hasn't asked my advice about what to be for Halloween.
   Yeah, I know it ain't over till it's over. Graduation is months away. But this October I think we'll be meeting a minor milestone. Friends and family, listen up. And any fat ladies reading get ready to sing. Because this year for Halloween, Leif Larson is going to be a Viking.

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