That's what we're here to celebrate. But good grief, class of 2006, we sure don't feel like celebrating. We feel like ripping off our clothing and drenching ourselves in ice water, because it sure is hot in here, Class of 2006.

I mean, we're all proud of you, but if we had our choice right now we would be sitting in our La-Z-Boy recliner at home, in the air conditioning, drinking lemonade and watching one of the thousands of programs currently airing about "The Da Vinci Code."

This heat is no fun, Class of 2006, and quite frankly most of us are getting cranky. What are you wearing under those graduation gowns, anyway? Underpants?

Well we're sitting up here in the Robert C. Brown Pressure Cooker in long pants and button-up shirts and ties-and some of us are even dumb enough to be wearing TUXEDO jackets, this writer included. And we're sweating like horses, Class of 2006.

As if we weren't crabby enough, some idiot at the top of the bleachers has an air horn.

But it's your day, Class of 2006. We're proud of you. In fact, we're so proud of you that we're tempted to skip this whole ceremony all together and go directly to your house and eat your cake and ham sandwiches. That's just how proud of you we are.

Yet we sit here in this gymnasium/church/social-gathering-location/regular-meeting-place-for-floor-resurfacers while we wait for you to cross the stage.

Gosh, that's so far away on the program, isn't it Class of 2006? I mean, we've been sitting here since maybe 1 p.m. so we could get a seat relatively close to the floor-which means we've been here all afternoon-and we're just finally getting past the band playing "Pomp and Circumstance."

You have to feel sorry for the band, don't you Class of 2006? It's hard to play with sweat dripping into your mouthpiece.

Don't you think they should put air conditioners in here?

Class of 2006, no offense, but whoever invited the guy with the air horn really needs to find better friends. We were maybe a little amused at listening to his random squeaks and bwarps at the beginning, but really, it's enough already.

However, it is about the only thing that's keeping us from falling into a coma from heat exhaustion. We're starting to think our feet no longer exist, but that we have one large puddle in each shoe.

But that's nothing compared to what our rears feel like.

These bleachers were not designed for long periods of sitting, Class of 2006. They were designed for basketball games, where you get up every few minutes to yell profanities at the refs.

We can't yell profanities here, though. This is a formal occasion. After all, a lot of us are wearing neck ties and argyle socks. Profanities are not appropriate here. Although the guy with the air horn has it coming.

But this is your day, Class of 2006. We're here to celebrate YOUR accomplishments and YOUR achievements. We may be bored out of our minds, but we're happy for you. Really, we are.

However, the least you could have done, Class of 2006, is left suitable tic-tac-toe space on the back of the program so we had something to do while we wait for you to cross the stage.

Not that it would matter right now, because we're currently using our programs as makeshift fans in a futile attempt to cool our faces. Our faces, Class of 2006, have accumulated so much oil during this ceremony that tomorrow our heads are going to consist of one large zit.

But who are we to complain? This is your day, and we're here to celebrate it with you. In the coming months, you'll be going off to colleges around the country, beginning your careers or joining the armed forces. You're part of society now, Class of 2006! You've got to take responsibility for your actions.

So now that you're officially responsible, why did so many of your have to graduate this year? It's going to take forever to get you all across that stage.

No offense, of course.

Class of 2006, there's an awful lot of you, and the person's last name whom we came particularly to see starts with a Y. Yet we've been at this for what seems like forever, and we're only on the Bs.

This is not to say that watching all of you walking across that stage is boring, but at this point our hineys are feeling seriously deflated, and if we don't stand up to reinflate them soon, we may loose permanent feeling in that particular area.

But we really are proud of all of you, Class of 2006. And as you close this chapter of your life and venture out to find a place of your own in society, we have these words of encouragement and advice for you....

Find the moron who invited to air-horn guy and knock him right back into freshman year.

* * *

UFO: Because metal was such an essential material during World War II, Oscar statues during that time were made out of plaster.

Don't ask why.