Greg, THE College Graduate

Friendships are forged in the fires of adversity. I learned this at BYU-Idaho where I forged some true friendships.

Greg lives up to his name as a gregarious creature. We found our friendship in Brother Lamereaux’s class; all he had to say was “Africa” and we were friends.  I guess you know how to make friends with me now…

Greg served a two year LDS mission in Mozambique and was just as obsessed as I was about it. We decided to become African blood brothers (minus the blood part because Greg always thought I had aids from my two years in Kenya).

Greg had this nonsensical notion that he was born to be a cop. He watched cops, NCIS, Law and Order; his heart was plum set on it. I took it as my duty to help him understand that it would ruin his life just as his incessant and infernal TV shows were ruining mine.

It’s obvious that Greg took the law serious even as a lowly citizen. I learned this the hard way one day as I wasn’t paying attention in class and I started writing on my desk. Greg immediately noticed and told me to stop.

“look man Im tired…Ill erase it later” I said

“Fix it now! You disrespectful slob!” He retorted

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” I replied…testing the very foundation of our friendship

“Ill tell brother Lamoreaux” He explained in a serious tone

I stalled-“You savage! What about all we’ve been through? Will you just throw away our friendship?”  

“Im not warning you again”

And that is when the big BIRD squawked, “BROTHER LAMOREAUX! BROTHER LAMOREAUX!! BROTHER LAMOREAUX!!!”

I started frantically licking my hand and wiping the little scribbles off.  I was being ratted out, betrayed, and stabbed in the back by one of my best friends. In that moment, I realized that Greg was going to make a magnificent Cop. He sat with a satisfied, law-loving grin; it was too late... Greg was already one of “them”.

Brother Lameraux had called on him and he just sat there and made up some b.s. excuse for calling out the professor's name three times.  He got what he wanted and was happy.

My face went beat red with 90% hatred and 10% embarrassment. I could have slapped Greg and his misbegotten principles in that moment, but instead, I had a devious plan for getting him back.

Greg had a gift for procrastinating with some of the assignments. This really didn't make him the MVP of our group, but one thing is for sure, if you told Greg the team was relying on him, he would stay up getting it done.

A week later I decided to convince Greg that the assignment was due the next day. Greg was desperate "man you cant be serious! I haven't got anything started yet...I don't know what to do, you gotta help me Dr. Juantson" I replied "Greg, have you ever heard of the story of the grasshopper and the ants?"
-"yah"
-"Well that's you, so you better get hoppin to it!"
-"oh come on man...you know you'd rather hang out with the Gregman than those girls nextdoor.."
"you know me soooo well Greg. That's why I came to college right? to sit and study with you."

" That's right old boy! Sherlock and Dr. Juantson the true embodyment of the Spirit of Ricks!"
I left him as he monologued on and on about how we were a team to be reckoned with.

Sherlock Greg with the NYPD shirt he wore everyday

Greg didn't sleep that night as he wrote and wrote; drank a hefty portion of hot chocolate and wrote some more. It was all quite inspirational really, until I woke him up in the morning.

Me Steven and the night Greg at a Bonfire

Greg was not a morning person and that morning it was obvious.

Morning Greg was the epitomy of a crotchity old grandpa who had done one too many laps in the pool. With eyes red with exhaustion, a voice like uneven gravel, and a body that was like an over-hybernated bear, Greg came out to battle the sunshine.

I was peppy with revenge that morning as Greg trudged forward with his hoodie covering his smeagle-like symptoms.

When we got to class he was ready to turn everything in, but surprise! no one else was. I got a huge kick out of it.

"The only way to fight a man with principles is to use his principles against him." I think that is how Abe Lincoln put it in the Gettysburg Address.

We forgave and forgot and laughed it off. That was our friendship in a nutshell. That being said, it was the last day Greg would be ready with an assignment early and THAT would come back to haunt us both later on.

Exhausted

It was our senior year and we were running on fumes. Our food situation was grave to say the least. We had combined efforts to increase nourishment but adding corn to spaghetti sauce was just too much for the superior pallet of Greg. It was killing him slowly.

I would ask him how he was doing and he would respond "Im fine...but Im not okay" And that became the official motto for our last semester.

Epic St. Patty Celebration

We were both hitting rock bottom with dating. We were dreaming of a life in Africa, in Alaska, a life beyond this abyss that was sucking our souls slowly. The only thing that was keeping us from the drink was the fact that we could host the most spectacular parties and get-togethers.

Yes, we were a duo...but a dying duo. We looking more ragged as the days went on. This was our last semester and we were just trying to see life beyond the burg...but things were getting blurry.

Greg had a looming online French course that he had decided to sign up for. I had warned him that it would be his death. this wasn't your ordinary bonjour-comme-t-allez-vous course. It was advanced literature. Which meant he had to read a daggum French book and write a report en Francaise.

While this seems bad, it was all going to be graded by an ex-ghestapo agent that was posing as a professor. Many a student had wet themselves in the middle of a french presentation just from his beady and heartless gaze.

Well Greg didn't have an option. He was going to stand up to the Ghestapo and finish this once and for all...or was he?

I would ask Greg how things were going just to make sure he was staying on top of it all. He would just change the subject. Things just weren't looking good for him and I didn't want to graduate and leave a man behind.
 
We would spend hours in the library just trying to figure out what book he would read and what his report would be on. We were coming up on the last month and I knew that we were on the verge of losing him. I tried to keep the conversations light, but I knew Greg was soon to be interrogated and most likely put to an immediate academic death.

Weeks went by with the same amount of action. Greg's procrastination was getting the best of him and that last week he was losing it as he would randomly laugh to himself and yell "IM OVER IT!!" as if that would fix his problems. He was slowly losing his mind and there was no doubt about it.

What a pity to come this far to only lose one's mind; a cruel salute to this educational"institution".

24hrs left and i knew Greg would have to start performing miracles or else he was going to have to reach the low of lows and turn to African ju-ju (black magic). Whatever he did I didn't see him off of his computer for over 10 hrs. he didn't sleep. He just wrote and read and probably did an African rain dance. It was the same technique he used when I got my revenge on him before. This time it wasn't just a small report though. this was supposed to be a francophonic masterpiece!

The next day we were supposed to walk. That was going to happen whether he passed the class or not. The problem would be that the walk would be in vain as the bachelors would never come in the mail if he didn't pass.

Up until the last seconds, Greg was burning that keyboard. He wanted me to help edit it but we both knew it was going to be a crapshoot. Not even 3 months preparation would prepare him for the Ghestapo.

Greg was fed up. He was going to walk and he just didn't care. His family was there to see him walk so by-cracky that's what he was going to do. We got into the gymnasium to prepare for it all when, all of the sudden out of no where, the french professor appeared with his beady eyes of hate. Greg tried to hide behind me but I was trying to hide behind him too. Our hearts had stopped and we feared the worst.

I envisioned it all
--Greg would be strangulated by a quick Nazi clutch to the throat...and I, well I was an accomplice to a horrific francophone research paper. I would be disgraced and emptied of my soul in just one condemning glare"

I waited...and waited. And like that, he passed by with his robe flowing behind him like a dementor. It was horrible but relieving once he passed.

Then like an angel, our favorite french professor came swooping in. She was a Parisienne princess. She was our teacher crush and we both about lost our minds as she leaned in and gave us the french bisou on both cheeks to congratulate us. Greg was on top of the world and if he hadn't graduated that night, it wouldn't have even mattered. That bisou was more than enough to keep us going.
 
Bouyed up, we sat next to each other in the back. Both of us had studied in the same department and even if we hadn't I would have walked with him just to experience what happened next.

One by one the graduates were walking in their caps and gowns. For every name that was read off, there was short burst of unenthusiastic golf claps. one and then the other. It was slow and uneventful each time. It felt like it was never going to end and I started to fall asleep when Greg shook me awake.

We were moving, to a new life, new expectations, new heights. My Dad was sick at the time and mom was taking care of him so I was looking for my sweet Aunt Kaye who was coming to see me. I knew I would get an enthusiastic whistle from her at least. Propriety aside, I knew Aunt Kaye knew how to cheer!

Greg and I reached the stage as the last two. There was a silence and then everyone stood and cheered emphatically. It was as if the rightful rulers of Rexburg had been announced. I looked at Greg with my jaw dangling for an answer. He was as giddy as gelding and couldn't hold back a wide smile as he put his arm around me and said, "I told you we owned this place, didn't I?"

Come to find out that the crowd had been told to hold back their applause till the end....Greg didn't believe that crap for one second though--still doesn't.

He passed his French class and got that degree. Sometimes all it takes to get us over that mountain is a couple of quick bisous and a king's welcoming!