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So the kids from Columbine started classes at a neighboring high school this week, right? Sounds like a good call to me. Allowing for the fact that in some sense, they will never go back, you can understand why they might be craving a return to some semblance of comforting, familiar, normal routine -- you know, the way things are supposed to be.* So this week, in their honor, let's turn our attention to a custom that's as all-American high school as it gets:

Prom (revisited.)

Grownups, pay attention. Date-swappage, dance discrimination, defying the bourgeoisie (oh, you'll see): don't even try to tell me this isn't still the story of your life. And as for the currently prom-enabled, let this ball be the story of your life only if it's a good story; otherwise, write it off. I know The World tries to make this a big deal, and if it will be fun for you to make it a big deal, then make it so. But realize that at some level (corrolary: Valentine's Day) it's a cash-cow-construct for the dressmakers and napkin-printers, and a college-app-padder for the Social Activities Committee members. Oh, but you know what I'd love? Write and tell me what your prom "themes" (like the songs, or whatever) are. I'm totally just curious (especially now that Titanic is -- finally -- five minutes ago). And you know, while I dimly recall a dance-floor debate about what "Su-su-sudio" meant, I don't remember our "theme" at all. You see my point.

* ...Though -- as new reports of other serious threats and scared kids flood in -- let us not forget that there are places where guns (not, say, jocks) have long ruled the school. Where living in fear is not news, it's normal. I'm just saying.

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