No. 2 son (age 22) has just sauntered through one of life’s big thresholds by graduating from college. Commencement took place almost a month ago, but I held off writing this celebratory column just to be sure that no surprises popped up, like some laaaaast little mandatory course to take, or some laaaaast little overdue library fine to pay, or some laaaaast honkin’ big check to write. Turns out No. 2 did ask for one of those, just to help him truly feel my pride.

No. 2 graduated with a degree in oceanography from Dear Old EOSU (Expensive Out-of-State University), a land-locked school in Michigan, which, even with pedal-to-the-metal global warming, won’t be near an ocean for five or six more years.

Right after graduating, No. 2 chucked his cap and gown and jumped into the thick of adult life by. . .going on vacation. And showing he learned a thing or two in cawlidge, he traveled for free; the trip was organized and led by some oceanography profs, so Dear Old EOSU paid for it. (Which actually means that some of my big honkin’ checks from the past four years paid for it. Hmmm. . .seems like No. 2 should’ve invited me along.)

To justify taking this excursion, No. 2 explained he’d be “compiling field notes,” “visiting sites of great geological significance” and “participating in field lectures.” Curiously, when I asked how many EOSU girls were going, his cell phone battery died.

The field trip’s destination was Florida. To those cringing and wailing “Aw yeesh, you’re segueing into another dull column of reminiscences about YOUR spring break trip to Florida!,” here’s my advice: Get your own weekly-columnist gig so that you can write your own more interesting column about my spring break trip to Florida.

Anyway, I’d rather reminisce about No. 2’s trip, which I experienced virtually yesterday by visiting a photo-sharing Web site where he posted all his pictures. Well, except the pix of EOSU co-eds that he doesn’t want his parents to see.

For the most part, the photos prove that No. 2 and his cohorts did indeed spent vast amounts of time studiously compiling field notes and participating in on-site lectures, particularly at sites of great geological significance in Key West, such as Sloppy Joe’s Bar and Crabby Dick’s Lounge.

There are also several pictures of students snorkeling. More precisely, pictures of students on a boat deck, preparing to snorkel. More precisely, pictures of female students, preparing their bikinis for snorkeling. With several extreme close ups that apparently show anoles camouflaged on their suits.

Now that he’s back from Florida, No. 2 will spend the rest of his summer eagerly anticipating more time in musty lecture halls listening to fusty profs, in addition to mandatory courses, overdue library fines and hitting me up for big honkin’ checks. Yep, he’ll be doing post-graduate work. This from a kid who, nine or ten years ago, was fond of grumbling how much he hated school.

He hates it no more, apparently. In early August, he’ll head to the University of Delaware College of Marine and Earth Studies, in a town I never heard of before, called Lewes (sounds just like “Lewis,” which is how the early English colonists pronounced the name its Dutch founders gave it, “Zwaanendael.”)

No. 2 chose the University of Delaware College of Marine and Earth Studies over several others for two important reasons: (1) The U of D athletic teams wear the exact same colors as EOSU, so he won’t have to change a thing about his wardrobe; and (2) in a town not six miles away, called Rehoboth, there’s a Crabby Dick’s Lounge.

Anyway, it’s a good thing a bright kid like No. 2 is becoming a citizen of Lewes; I read on the Internet that it’s southern Delaware’s densest place.

Wait, check that; it’s southern Delaware’s most densely POPULATED place. Sorry about that.

I’ll conclude with a personal message to No. 2, who no doubt will read this column aloud to his new U of D classmates over cold mugs of milk, which I always encouraged him to do as an undergraduate: Son, I know you’ll continue to do great at Delaware; after all, the facilities in Lewes are known as the Hugh R. Sharp campus. That suits you to a T, ‘cause kiddo, U R Sharp.

Congrats on grajiatin’; I’m proud of ya.