At the beginning of the YouTube video for Never Mind the Cost there is a brief introduction to the lyrics. And although it is true that the song tells smart young people to continue doing hard and good work by reassuring them that family, friends, and others, will provide needed support, that introduction was truncated, due to the production constraints of the contest in which the song was entered. Borrowing from a famous radio voice out of the past, “And now, it is time for the rest of the story.”

Twice each year Bradley University hosts a semiformal dinner in celebration of, and for, our summa cum laude graduates. These students are the best and the brightest and, of course, carry grade-point averages over 3.85. Each student is allowed to invite one faculty member to join them at the dinner. I've been fortunate to be asked to attend four or five of these dinners.

In years gone by, one of the features of the “Summa Dinner” was that wine was served to all of the guests who were 21 years of age or older. This was one of the first (and only) times that students at the University were offered alcoholic beverages by their teachers and school administrators. However, over the past six years or so, Bradley University has been engaged in a temperance movement such that one of the most festive features of the event has been squelched. I will not take sides as to whether this change is for the better or worse. It does however diminish, somewhat, the character of the dinner as a special knowledgement of the increased maturity demonstrated by these superior students. It also makes the event less fun.

BU Student Center Ballroom; photo by Daryl Wilson

The last time that I attended this banquet motivated me to write a song. The evening’s program took on a familiar mode. After a brief social hour and the milling around that one does in order to find one’s name placard and assigned table, the President of the University spoke to welcome those assembled. The President’s speech was relatively short. However, at the end of her speech she introduced the Provost, who was called upon to make a few comments. The Provost, relatively new to the University, took a bit more time than one would expect to greet the assembly and to make some pithy comments about the excellent work that these students had done during their time in our tutelage.

Toward the end of the Provost’s remarks, he embarked on a rather extended introduction of the next speaker,

a local business person with obvious and yet somewhat tenuous connections to the University. Perhaps this was a potential donor that the development office wanted to honor and massage? The person was known to some faculty and staff in the audience as a long time supporter of the University and yet, not as someone to whom we owed to any favors as they had often show little respect for higher education.

Soon we would learn, by hard experience, that the invited guest had either not been given a time limit for their comments, or they decided to ignore whatever limits that had been suggested. To say that “the speech went on a bit” is a kind understatement. By the time our guest completed her remarks, the sound of growling stomachs added ominous tones to that speech’s end. Unfortunately, the end of the speech-a-thon was nowhere in sight.

The next speaker was specially chosen from among the summa cum laude graduates. With every right to address their gathered peers and-- even bette--a chance to finally hold forth before faculty members who had often held even bright students in abeyance for four years, the student speaker filled more than 15 minutes making pithy and important comments about all four years of her experience as a student at Bradley University. The selected female student was followed by the obligatory male representative. He was, gratefully, brief.

At this point in the proceedings, one was hoping that at least the salad might be served. No such luck. The President once again took the podium to extol the virtues of the faculty member who had been specially selected to deliver a few words of encouragement to the assembled outstanding students and their faculty mentors.

By the time the faculty representative rose and approached the podium, I was ready to put pins and needles into my eyeballs. We had been listening to speeches for over 45 minutes and even if my faculty colleague had decided to constrain himself and his enthusiasm before this auspicious multitude, we were looking at, roughly, an hour from the start of the proceedings to the dinner service. As I looked at the students seated at surrounding tables, I noted more disgust and disinterest on their faces than I perceived even I was letting show on mine.

I vowed (silently to myself of course) then and there: If ever I am asked to serve as the faculty speaker at the summa cum laude dinner I am going to accept the invitation but sing a song instead of make a speech.

Now, we should note a couple of things about my vow.

First, it is highly unlikely – – nay – – next to impossible, that I will ever be asked to make such a speech. Let us just say that it has been a long time since Ed Lamoureux has been the flavor of the month at Bradley University. My teacher-student evaluation rankings are not high; although, one might expect that among excellent students like those gathered at this dinner, my scores would be a little higher than they are among the general student population. Gawd forbid that you look me up on Ratemyprofessor.com.

I am contracted in two units at the University: the Department of Communication and the Department of Interactive Media. However, for a variety of reasons (none of them having to do with my vast popularity) I do not attend the faculty meetings of either unit. The last time I ventured into the Dean’s office for a meeting, I left with the echo of shouting still in my ears. In short, about the only honor that I consider a strong possibility, at the University, is an offer of early retirement which, unfortunately, I cannot afford to accept.

Second, it is probably the case that I would make a better speech than a song sung even at my best. After all, I hold an undergraduate degree in Speech, a Masters degree in Speech Communication, and a Ph.D. in Rhetoric and Communication. I have given a number of noteworthy and successful speeches and I specialize in speech training. In fact, at any given summa cum laude dinner, I might be the best speaker, talent-wise, in the room. (Apologies to student attendees who have won forensics titles and to faculty who have distinguished themselves at the podium).

On the other hand, I am a amateur singer-songwriter. And in my own mind – – and probably to the ears of my listeners – – I’m quite a bit better at the songwriter part than I am at the singer part.

In short, preferring to sing a song rather than give a speech might not be thought of as my best possible choice. However, after listening to six speeches across an hour before dinner, I became thoroughly convinced that the students would prefer sitting through even a bad three-minute song to listening to another ten-minute or longer speech. We could put a lyric sheet and the Mp3 file on a thumb drive at each place setting for the students as a momento. I could keep my fingers crossed that they would take them home for additional listening opportunities.

So after dinner, I went home and composed Never Mind the Cost.

And now you know the rest of the story.