Mukilteo Musings

Lucas Stories

They have become known as "Lucas Stories"! My son is a remarkable young man and I am proud of the kind of person he has turned out to be but....and yes, there is a but. He is quite brilliant but he has this endearing disconnected aspect to his personality that results in what has become known between his grandmother and me as a "Lucas Story".

Going off to college has accentuated his endearing disconnect because his Mom--that being me--is not around to offer little pieces of advice. I should have anticipated this issue years ago when he went to school one morning still in his pajama tops. Or perhaps I should have recognized the potential problem when he wore white socks with his black tuxedo at his first formal orchestra concert when he was in the front row.

His safety became an issue when he described to me how he had gone hiking in the snow and he noticed an interesting sled trail with blood. He had come upon hunters during hunting season who had killed a deer. I asked him what he was wearing if he was hiking in the midst of deer hunters. "Lucas, listen to me, do not hike during hunting season in Montana unless you are wearing florescent orange!" Off he went to the nearest sporting goods store and he bought his orange sweatshirt--after the fact.

His disconnect spreads beyond clothing. I loved how he explained to me he was having a little trouble in his Anthropology class doing some of his reports. As a child, he often would interpret a teacher's instructions in quite an odd way. For example, he did poorly on a Social Studies test in the third grade because he failed to mark pictures that belonged during Lincoln's time. The little pictures appeared to be aerial views and Lucas knew there were no airplanes at that time and no mountains in Illinois from which to get an aerial view. But he eventually compensated and graduated from high school with a 3.8. His college GPA is a 4.0 so he finally figured out, he hoped, what his Anthropology professor wanted. After he turned in his latest paper, he was sitting in class when the professor was reading an example of an excellent paper. Lucas, as he listened, thought the paper was really good but he was completely confused because it sounded familiar. "Oh, WOW, that's mine!" he finally realized after several minutes.

Lately, he explained to me he had been getting this "stuff" in the campus mail assuming maybe it was junk mail. Evidently, he has been receiving prestigious invitations for various honor societies. After throwing away who knows what, he finally asked me about one of the invitations. He was invited to join Phi Kappa Phi Honor Society and I was thrilled because I had received the same honor in college. The Montana schools do not have Phi Beta Kappa but Phi Kappa Phi is their equivalent.

Last night my son was inducted into Phi Kappa Phi. My husband was talking to him on the phone and I heard Dave say, "You wore what??"

"Oh, geez, give me the phone!" I pleaded.

"Hey, Mom. Yea, I was inducted into that Honor Society. It was really cool. There was a banquet and I received a certificate and a pin."

"And were you dressed up a little??" I hoped.

"Ah, no. I wore my sweatshirt and jeans and my hiking boots. My new hiking boots."

"Were people dressed up for this?" I inquired.

"Ah, yea.....pretty much everybody but me. But my friends thought it was great I came dressed like me. This is how I dress. I had my Seattle sweatshirt on. Mom, it was cool. The president of the university was only a couple of chairs away from me. And my Davidson Honors College professors were all there and they know me. Mom, this is Missoula--nobody cares."

Thinking he may have come right off the mountainside to this banquet, I asked my beloved son if he was clean, at least.

"......[silence].......Yes, that's right, I did--I took a shower only a couple of hours before. I thought that would be a good idea. My hair was clean and I did not wear my beanie."

I explained to Lucas that I was inducted into this Honor Society in the height of hippiedom in 1973 and I still managed to find a skirt to wear to my banquet. But you know, I am so darn proud of my son, that I really do not care that he wore a sweatshirt to that banquet. He managed to get himself there and the thought never connected to his brain that he should dress up a little.

Besides, I love to tell "Lucas stories"! And his Grandma loves to hear them.