Close your eyes and take a moment to envision life three weeks from now.

You’ve finished your last final. There are no more all-nighters in your immediate future. No more stress over essays, exams or AirOrangeX-induced mental breakdowns.

Your semester is over. You have three glorious months ahead of you. No matter what your summer plans are, they likely don’t involve schoolwork. (And if you’re a graduating communications major, like me, they likely don’t involve any kind of work at all.) Breathe that sigh of relief. Ahhhh.

You walk onto the Quad and see your best friend, who just finished his or her last exam as well. You walk, almost prance, toward him or her. You both know what’s going to happen next. You’re getting closer, you feel your arm beginning to rise, you watch your best friend’s rise as well. You keep walking and when the time comes, your hands approach each other, both exerting the necessary amount of force that will result in that beautiful, celebratory, victorious slap.

The high five.

The most triumphant of all communicative motions. In one swift movement, you say to each other, ‘F*ck yeah.’ It’s authentic, it’s unapologetic and it says to the world, ‘I am a boss.’ With Thursday being National High Five Day, there’s no better time to pay homage to this glorious exchange of joy.

In a July 2011 article published in ESPN The Magazine, Jon Mooallem sought to uncover the history of the high five. After denouncing a myth that Lamont Sleets, a basketball player for Murray State College between 1979 and 1984, created it, Mooallem chronicles two likely origins. One being Glenn Burke, an outfielder for the Los Angeles Dodgers in the late 1970s and the other being University of Louisville basketball player Derek Smith during the 1978-79 season.

Legend has it Burke invented the high five at Dodger Stadium on Oct. 2, 1977. Dusty Baker made his 30th home run, which made the Dodgers the first team in history to have four sluggers. ‘Burke, waiting on deck, thrust his hand enthusiastically over his head,’ Mooallem wrote. ‘Baker, not knowing what to do, smacked it.’ And the high five was created.

Unless it was Smith.

Legend has it Smith invented the high five at a practice during the 1978-79 season. ‘Forward Wiley Brown went to give a plain old low five to his teammate, Derek Smith. Out of nowhere, Smith looked Brown in the eye and said, ‘No. Up high,’ and the high five was created.’

Ultimately, Mooallem concluded, ‘The story of the high five is a ghost story.’

But to imagine what our culture would have been like without the high five, regardless of who created it, is to paint a grim picture of a society aching for a more expressive means of connection. Something less formal than a handshake but not quite as intimate as a hug.

Aced the exam you pulled an all-nighter for, even though you spent the entire night on whatshouldwecallme?

High five.

Scored the winning goal, basket, touchdown, home run or beer pong cup?

High five.

Cleaned your apartment, finished your laundry, roasted a pig and called your Mom? All in time to day drink?

High five!

Successful one-night stand with a hottie?

Double high five for you, my friend.

So take the day to appreciate whoever created this momentous gesture. Our generation, our culture, our society would not be the same without his or her contribution.

And then celebrate. Not only is it National High Five Day, it’s Thursday – I’ll see you at Chuck’s. High fives are on me.

Lauren Tousignant is a senior communications and rhetorical studies and writing major. Her column appears weekly. She can be reached at letousig@syr.edu or followed on Twitter at @lauT1. 

Published on April 17, 2012 at 12:00 pm