The spring semester is drawing to a close and once again, inexplicably, I have not been invited to give the commencement address at Moscow University’s graduation ceremonies.

Baffling, isn’t it? Especially in these belt-tightening times, when I represent a considerable saving: I am willing to offer a special Crisis Discount on my honorarium. Come to that, I am not above barter.

Perhaps the university trustees have left me sitting by the phone again because they recall inviting another American celebrity to speak at commencement some years back. On May 31, 1988, retired actor Ronald Reagan offered the university’s new graduates a healthy 1700-word dose of homespun American wisdom and avuncular advice. The speech was as well received as it was delivered – but the Soviet Union went kablooey soon thereafter, possibly leaving a residue of cause-and-effect sentiment at the faculty club.

Or maybe they’re concerned that my appearance could cause controversy, like Barack Obama’s earlier this month: first Arizona State University resisted giving the president an honorary degree (until he made up several honorary incompletes, apparently); then demonstrators massed at Notre Dame, where the prestigious Department of Football Studies took exception to Obama’s unapologetic pro-basketball position.

Moscow U. can relax: I don’t want any more degrees and carry truly strong sports feelings only about the sham of disguising boxers in hockey uniforms. And I offer total transparency: here’s the draft of an address I’ll read word-for-word at the ceremony unless someone texts me halfway through about a sudden change in my visa status. OK, ahem:

“Esteemed new graduates! I am honored to stand before you on this great occasion, and before a buffet luncheon which may prove even greater. But bear with me.

That so many are receiving diplomas here today suggests that last winter’s Shuvalov Proposal – to intern all college students on campus until the end of the economic crisis and pocket their unemployment benefits – has not found favor with the majority of you. I say – bravo. Those indolent seniors who like the idea of attending the University of Indefinite Internment are presumably having lunch in the main cafeteria as we speak, and I pity them on both counts.

But really, what words of wisdom can I – a crusty, chalk-throwing, still-unbribed-but-definitely-interested old warhorse of an English teacher – what useful advice can this Mr. Chips with attitude impart to you, a generation of cyber-weaned nonreaders all too ready to mock a visiting professor struggling with complicated computer-based instructional technology in the classroom? Plenty, that’s what.

Tomorrow you will carry your hard-earned “sheepskins” beyond these hallowed halls into a brave new world of unparalleled challenges, golden opportunities and clichés yet undreamed of even by your humble speaker, whose pending application for a work visa represents a unique chance to reset and improve Russian-American relations at one go. Surely that is food for thought – and I don’t mean from the cafeteria, either!

Thank you, thank you – but I didn’t come here to make you laugh. You have a Ministry of Finance for that. No, today is a serious occasion: your precious diplomas, much more than those sold in Metro stations, signal a new beginning for a tide of youth whose gaze extends beyond the yawning heights of Eurovision to a shining future eternally receding with the vast horizon. I say go forward, you citizens of tomorrow, to dream the impossible dream – and see where it gets you!

I’d like to close by quoting two great Americans, neither of whom took three-hour naps at work or is mistakenly credited with winning the Cold War. Columnist Art Buchwald once told a group of smiling graduates much like yourselves but with better teeth, ‘We’ve left you a perfect world – don’t louse it up!’ Hear-hear! And the baseball-playing philosopher Yogi Berra later added, ‘When you come to a fork in the road, take it.’ Yes, graduation is a defining turn on this Great Road of Life – and it’s time to fork off, the lot of you.”

Hmm, perhaps I’m still a bit on edge. Anyway, it’s only a draft, suggestions are welcome. And if you’re Igor Shuvalov, I’ll take your name out in a heartbeat for some help with the visa.