So my daughter, Sarah, is feeling the pressure to attend the right college.

Daily, the 17-year-old high school junior is asked by family, friends and strangers where she wants to go to school when she graduates next year. She always gives the same answer: “Whichever one will give me the most money.”

The good news is that she’s at least narrowed it down to colleges either in-state or out-of-state.

I understand her hesitancy in making a decision. Finding the right school “could make or break you,” as Sarah says.

This isn’t like when I searched for a college decades ago. You could pick any one because they all seemed the same.

Now, you have to spend endless hours researching the college that best fits you.

And I feel for the high schoolers. Not only does Sarah have to worry about grades, but she has to impress some unseen college entrance examiner with an application jammed with extra curricular activities, a high ACT score and a GPA that breaks 4.0.

Because of those worries, the cost of college almost seems like an afterthought. It shouldn’t be. These days it seems you’ve got to be a member of the Walton family (Sam's, not John Boy's) just to afford the cost of tuition for a year.

“I don’t want to be in debt for an undergraduate degree,” Sarah says as she considers what school to attend.

I understand her concern. See, when I graduated in the 1990s from the University of California at Santa Barbara, college was “reasonably” priced. Come to think of it, I should have my student loans paid off by the time I’m 67.

A few months ago, Sarah attended college night at UALR, where dozens of universities from around the country set up tables and acted like carnival barkers, enticing future students to come to their school.

In under a minute, a recruiter spilled the pitch to Sarah on how much fun the school is with movie nights on campus, a variety of clubs to join and the unstoppable football team. The salesman also touted the benefits of the college town and the numerous activities awaiting a young student on her own for the first time.

Absent from the spiel is the sticker price, which in some cases ran as high as $65,000 a year. The recruiters waive off any concern of it being high and say no one in their right mind pays that. With all the scholarships available and discounts, a student might have to come up with a measly $35,000 a year.

Now that makes me feel better.

At the end of the evening, Sarah was no closer to making a decision than when she started.

“I know I’m going to apply to several different colleges,” she says. “I’m going to throw my net wide to see which ones accept me.”

Well. While she’s deciding on a college, I’ll be researching ways I could be adopted by the Waltons.