It is my unofficial duty to bid the official Macaroni Farwell to our graduating seniors. You have been with us for 13 years (more or less) and Greenville will lose a little more without you. This year in particular is a time for sorrow. We trade away our favorite seniors, who are responsible, respectful, and overall good friends, in exchange for a group of rowdy, bothersome kids, who don’t know the difference between a proper essay and their “love letters”. As a junior, I have known most of you for many years now, even if it hasn’t always been on the closest of terms. But in the past few years, I have come to know some of you as well as my own classmates, and it will be as hard to bid farewell to you as if I were saying goodbye to a part of myself. Even for those of you who I didn’t know personally, you’re contributions to the school will not be forgotten, and I wish you the best of luck in all your ventures.
And now for the four graduating seniors closest to me. It is your presence I will miss the most, even if we still gather together for the occasional get-together. Each of you brought a very special something to our little newspaper, whether it be your organizing skills, devious trickery, or just your inspirational look at life. We all hope that you will continue your writings at wherever you go, because it just won’t be the same without you. I guess that’s why we have the internet right? As great as it is to look at videos of cats, or guys being thrown from crashing trucks, truly its greatest power is that ability to connect people from all over the world together, as though they are right next to each other. With luck, we will be as close 10 years from now, as we are on this day.
To the Head Archivist,
You were new this year not just to our publication but also to the school itself. It can’t have been easy to find yourself in a strange new place, where everyone already had their favorite groups and best friends, but somehow you managed. You did your thing, no matter what anyone else thought, and you weren’t afraid to play the devil’s advocate (although supporting Nazi’s, even for the sake of arguing, is never a good idea). Somehow you were able to wear formal wear almost every day, and yet still not win best dressed. You adapted quickly, and have been a valuable addition to this paper since its early days. Even though you were only here for a year, I feel like you were just another member of our senior body, and I am glad to have met you. I know that wherever you go, and whatever you do, you’ll be able to do it your way, and adapt to whatever situation you find yourself in. Best of luck.
To Political Correspondent Nixon,
This report has frankly been the least of your accomplishments at our school. You have been involved with so many groups, and set so many landmarks that if I were to try and give you credit for all of them, it would frankly take up far more room than even the internet has. I have no trouble believing that you will succeed in everything you attempt, because frankly, you are one of the strongest people I have ever met. Not just in terms of your physical body, but your willingness to work, level of intelligence, and your overall refusal to give up. You have gotten to where you are today, because you are willing to do what it takes. You aren’t daunted by the idea of doing the impossible. From the highest level classes available in high school, to breaking records in everything you do, and smashing the barriers where everyone else is afraid to. You have been imperative in helping our small publication grow, and not just by being the first one not afraid to print things that were so indecent they had to be redacted. You will be a role model for all of us for years to come, and give us the strength to reach for the impossible. Thank you for everything you have done, and best of luck in everything you work towards. I know you will succeed.
To The Furnace Dragon,
I really don’t know how to begin here. You have been with us for almost as long as we have existed, and you have written consistently since then. But frankly praising you simply because of your writing is just kind of shallow. In reality, you have grown to become an instrumental part of this group. You are always supporting us in our efforts, and there to talk to when we need someone. You have grown on us like a zebra mussel in America: spreading from one place to another, and covering us in your influence. Yeah okay that was bad. Sorry. I’m really not good at goodbyes. But the problem is that that’s what this is. From now on you’ll be far away, meeting new friends, helping new people, and working for new publications (don’t try to deny it, its okay). And frankly, if you give them half as much as you’ve given us in the half year we’ve worked together, then they will all be better off for it. And no matter what happens, just remember that we will always be there for you, whether it be emotionally, or physically. If you need us to, we’ll travel across the country to help you. We will miss you, but we know that it’s time you went on to make your mark on the world, and unfortunately, the probably won’t happen with us. All we want is to make sure that you have the life you have always wanted, because you deserve it. Now go out there, and don’t trash us behind our back, just say it straight to us, because sometimes we might need a stabilizing influence behind us. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, and don’t stop until you’ve reached the end, wherever that may be.
ps.: I even forgive you for taking the best senior quote
To the Head Chef,
Believe me, I do not mean anything by leaving you till last, because I have nothing but good things to say to you. In many ways, you are the backbone of this publication. We started because of you, and we will keep going without you, no matter how hard it is. When you first approached me asking me to write, you were just a guy with an idea. You wanted to bring a little life to his area, and that’s what you have done. Since then, we’ve gained a staff, and are in the process of earning more. But no matter how big we get, we’re just a snowball rolling down a hill, and it was you that gave us that first push. Many people might not realize this, but it’s not easy to give that push. You have to be ready to accept the consequences if people don’t support you, and be ready to fight for what you believe in. But you had the strength. Sure it might not be easily visible, behind that huggable exterior, and that face that couldn’t make holding a knife to someone’s throat look threatening, but you have your own strength. I’ve known you since I was in third grade, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you do more than I’ve seen you accomplish in this year. You singlehandedly created the greatest publication this school has ever seen (sorry Maroon Report), even before you had a full staff behind you. No matter how big we get, no one will forget that it was you that first rented our office space, and found the interns. You set up warning signs about the furnace dragon, and didn’t let a few (hundred) casualties stop your progress. From now on you should know that you have more strength than even you may know. It may not be the kind that everyone notices, but you have the strength inside to take that first step into the unknown, to put yourself out for the world to see and judge forever, and somehow convince others to join you. When I first heard you use the name head chef, I’ll admit it sounded ridiculous. But it really does suit you. You made a series of random ingredients into an incredible dish for the world to eat from. And when I look at how far we’ve come, I know that it’s all because of you. Thank you for everything, and know that you will always have us behind you when or if you ever need the support of those you once raised from the ashes of nothing. We wish you the best of luck in all you do and attempt. Go forth with gusto.
And with that I must bid you all one final farewell. I really hate goodbyes, and even though I had my tear ducts removed after Donald Trump first reached that 39% percent popular vote, I promise you that I am crying more on the inside now, then any other point in my life – not counting when I was a baby, since that doesn’t really count. I’ll miss you all, but I promise that next time we meet together, we’ll do it at my place, and there will be food. I wish you the best of luck with everything, from now forevermore. And with that ends what is possibly the longest article in Macaroni History. I apologize to those of you who read this entire thing thinking it would go somewhere else. Goodbye to four of the greatest students Greenville has ever had, and best of luck wherever the road of life takes you. I will miss all of you.