I went to a cocktail party last night at the Sofitel Hotel in honour of my son A's graduation from his hospitality course. It's a part of his VCE studies and he chose to be a waiter. He looked so handsome and right in his waiter attire - crisp white shirt and tie, black vest and a white apron tied around his waist, he even brushed back the hair off his face for the first time in I don't know how long. I was bursting with fatherly pride.

The wine and beer flowed freely and there were little cocktail snacks prepared by the student chefs. The room was buzzing with other proud parents as their children swirled around making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink. As is the case everywhere, some students were more committed than others. A had taken the trouble to memorize all the cocktail snacks that he was serving, perhaps he knew that I was going to ask him about them, but another student waiter didn't know what the red coloured drink was that he was serving and declined to find out; it was a really delicious glass of blood orange juice sans alcohol.

Towards the end of the night there was a speech by the coordinater of the course, who spoke about how well the course was going, what it meant for the students and how more and more restaurants were coming on board with placements. After the speech all the student chefs and waiters gathered for a photo and as I watched this group of young people, laughing and smiling, their futures stretched out before them, I felt a tear form in the corner of my eye as I remembered the time more than thirty years ago, when I would have done anything to be where these guys were now, but family circumstances wouldn't permit. It caught me by a bit by surprise that after so long this feeling could still surface.

After all the pleasantries, my son came over and we had a chat. He told me that hospitality wasn't for him and that he was thinking about an electrical career. I wasn't too surprised about that, hospitality isn't for eveyone, my other daughter P had a shot at a cooking course but in the end didn't like it either, there has to be a certain something in you that lets you enjoy the creative process of cooking, or you really have to like people and understand them in order to be a waiter. If this life isn't calling out to you loud and clear, it would be foolish to embark the ship that takes you there.