By Rob Peters
We’re not very good at waiting – our western culture rather abhors it. And up ’till now, many of Benicia’s families and students have been doing it for months – years, in some cases.
For these days, you can hear certain sounds ripping the air from the families of Benicia’s high school seniors: sighs and gasps, winces and cringes, crying and yelping and OMG’ing and trash-talk a la rap star prima donnas. All these wholesome wails are in service to the thin or slightly bulging (bulging is better) envelopes that come in the mail, announcing whether or not you’ve been fully – or partly – or conditionally – accepted to a college of your interest. Most colleges have been lined up in some sort of priority, numeric system: the first and second choices, the fall – backs, the I’m –desperate-for-someplace choices, the ones-momma-wanted-me-to-apply to, the I’ve -changed-my-mind-I-would-NEVER-go-freaking-there, and the also-rans.