Back to school, hither and yon

KAREN WIGHT

The summer ends. Sanity returns to the household. Routine is

reinstated -- back to high school for Breck, back to elementary

school for Mary Rose, and for Annie, back to Berkeley.

Last year, her college adventure was filled with excitement

(hers), laced with apprehension (ours). This year, we returned her to

the land of tie-dye a little older, a little wiser and a little more

prepared for life outside the bubble.

A year ago, I took a picture of a store on Telegraph Avenue that

had a sign in the front window: “Explore the Possibilities.” I think

that’s the mantra for every college freshman. It summed up the year

perfectly. The first sign that caught my eye this year read:

“Welcome. Berkeley is a crime watch community. We immediately report

all suspicious activity to our police department.”

Can you hear my laughter? They must have a monstrous police force.

All five of us went on the pilgrimage to take Annie back to school

-- the final summer adventure. Last year, we learned that we could

live without her, but it wasn’t as much fun. The house was cleaner,

the grocery bill ridiculously reduced, and there was less shuffling

of schedules and cars. We weren’t really sure if she could “come

home” again, and we found out that, indeed, she could. She was more

appreciative, patient and considerate. Maybe parenting has a few

payoffs after all.

This year, her Berkeley home will be a sorority house instead of

the dorm. It’s a beautiful colonial-style, three-story building

directly across the street from campus and Memorial Stadium. No need

for co-ed bathrooms, hallelujah. No signs for “sitting stalls” and

“standing stalls” and no buffets filled with bottomless bowls of

tater tots and chicken nuggets. Granted, I’m sure a gaggle of girls

can find enough trouble to get into, but somehow it seems that it

might happen with more civility. Of course, having said that, I’m

sure I will be proven wrong.

Annie dragged us to her favorite food haunts. We went from

room-service breakfast at the Claremont to chili-cheese fries on

dirty picnic benches at lunch. Hmm. Needless to say, if I had taken

my power washer, I would have been very busy.

We went on an excruciating trip to Ikea to find a desk for her

room (the Kappa house may not provide desks, but the closet space is

spectacular) and found every other family of a Berkeley student was

doing the same thing. Ikea was out of all desk chairs (strange but

true), but we found groovy purple chairs at Staples and then went to

Mervyn’s to gleefully buy more clothes hangers.

As we drove around town, we pondered a few of the lawn decorations

around campus. One house had a large red tape circle with a giant

slash mark attached to the hedge. I finally got it: “No Bush.” No

matter which side of the political fence you lean on, you have to

appreciate the originality.

We moved her into her room, assembled furniture, hung clothes and

set up the necessary technology. The important things are in place,

like stacks of CDs and DVDs. Hopefully the desk will be used once or

twice. I’m sure that by this time, the neat and tidy room is littered

with piles of clothes, and the money for books has probably been

spent at the Gap (directly across from campus). On our way out the

Kappa door, I spied a vending machine in the common room. The roll of

quarters I left for laundry will no doubt go toward her ration of

Diet Coke.

It’s back to school, here and there, another year of learning in

and out of the classroom.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column runs

Thursdays.