Each year, I give advice to the graduates. What else can I do with it?

I am convinced that the best way to start a commencement speech is by saying, “In conclusion…”

Nevertheless, I am going to tell you some things I have learned, so stop texting and listen.

At a checkout, always get behind a man. He will be in a hurry to get out of the store.

If someone asks, “May I have a few minutes of your time?” it will be more than a few minutes.

Credit cards can get you in a lot of trouble even if you do need new stereo equipment and a foot rub.

Learn how to take a hint.

Never buy a car based on the color.

Practice helps, but it never makes perfect.

Appreciate your parents. They were right about most things.

The bad driver isn’t always in the other car.

Never dive while wearing loose trunks.

Talk half as much and listen twice as much as you want.

Compliment others.

You don’t have to be right all the time.

Ask.

Volunteer.

Forget the things you should forget.

Find a passion.

Buy the smooth peanut butter.

I cannot remember who spoke at my high school graduation or what he or she said. He or she could have counseled, “Some people are like a Slinky. Not good for anything, but fun to push down the stairs.” I doubt he or she said that, but I don’t remember. I am sure that he or she offered sage and sonorous advice. Whoever it was told me that the future was in my hands and the world would be only as good as I made it. He or she told a group of students dressed in identical caps and gowns and packed together like pickles in a jar that “individuality” was the key to success. Or maybe he or she advised that one dandelion is an unsightly weed, but a group makes a beautiful bouquet. He or she might have quoted, Mark Twain who said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

Or Woody Allen who said, “More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly.”

If you’re lucky, you will be good at something. If you’re good, you will be lucky at something.

As my late friend, Dean Routh, was fond of saying, “Life is good.”

I could stop here and I will.

Ask Al

Customers of this column ask the best questions. I offer lame answers.

“What do you think was the first word ever uttered?” I don’t know, but I’ll bet the second was “Huh?”

“What goes through the woods without making a sound?” A path.

“What can I do to stop biting insects?” Don’t bite any of them.

“With our economy struggling, have you been able to put aside something for retirement?” Yes, I put aside any plans on retiring.

“What do home-schooled children miss out on?” Snow days.

“Why is a robin fighting with the window of my house?” It’s likely suffering from irritable fowl syndrome.

“How could soccer be made more exciting?” Blindfolded players on stilts.

“What can I do for an affordable summer family vacation?” Sit in a hot car in your driveway and argue with your family for eight hours.

The fishing opener

The game warden walked over to Scooter who was fishing at Lake Inferior. Scooter had two buckets full of fish. The game warden asked him, “I’m just checking fishing licenses. Do you have one?”

Scooter replied, “No, sir. I don’t need one. Those are my pet fish.”

“Pet fish?” the warden said.

“Yes, sir,” said Scooter. “Every day, I take these fish to the lake and let them swim around for exercise. When I’m ready to go, I whistle, the fish jump back into the buckets, and I take them home.”

“That’s a bunch of hooey!” sputtered the warden.

Scooter gave the game warden a look and stated, “Watch, I’ll prove it to you.”

“Yeah, right. This I’ve got to see,” replied the game warden.

Scooter poured the fish from the buckets into the water and he and the warden waited.

After a few minutes, the game warden turned to Scooter and said, “Well?”

“Well, what?” asked Scooter.

“When are you going to call them back?” the game warden pressed.

“Call who back?” Scooter questioned.

“The fish!” bellowed the warden, nearly apoplectic.

“What fish?” answered Scooter.

Hartland resident Al Batt’s columns appear every Wednesday and Sunday.