I'm not really certain that I'm the world's oldest journalism undergraduate. There may be a few, somewhere in the world, older than 62 years of age. But I'm certainly the oldest in any of my classes. and in fact have been significantly older than any of the professors who have taught me during my latest foray into higher education.
I entered Georgia State University in 1969, so I may also be in the top percentile for sheer length of time between first enrolling and completion of a degree.
I worked in GSU's information technology department for just under 20 years, A retirement buyout was offered during my last year, and I jumped at it. Most of my years working at GSU were fantastic, and I'm very happily drawing my pension. During my last few years the department implemented a bureaucratically driven reorganization which seems to have been developed by carefully studying every single Dilbert comic strip, and failing to recognize that they were satire. So it was time for me to quite literally take the money and run.
So now here I am. I skipped the miniature "Maymester", which is a ridiculously short three weeks. I can barely put together a decent grocery list in three weeks, much less read a text book and retain the information. So I'll be beginning the full summer semester on June 9th. It's also short (seven weeks), but I can get one of the low workload electives out of the way.
A few people have asked me what it's like being a 62 year old guy among twentysomethings. I think they imagine me as Rodney Dangerfield from Back to School, or Chevy Chase from Community. Actually, it's a very rewarding experience, I'm focused on mastering the material in my classes too much to have succumbed to the initial culture shock, and I'd recommend it to anyone who wants to keep growing intellectually throughout their life. 62 might not really be the new 40, but it isn't 120 either.
