Ladies and gentlemen
of the class of '97:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you
only one tip for the future, sunscreen would
be it. The long-term
benefits of sunscreen have been proved by
scientists, whereas
the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
than my own meandering
experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty
of your youth. Oh, never mind.
You will not understand
the power and beauty of your youth
until they've faded.
But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at
photos of yourself and
recall in a way you can't grasp now how
much possibility lay
before you and how fabulous you really
looked. You are not
as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the
future. Or worry, but know that worrying is
as effective as trying
to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubble gum. The real
troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried
mind, the kind that blindside you at
4 p.m. on some idle
Tuesday.
Do one thing every day
that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with
other people's hearts. Don't put up with
people who are reckless
with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time
on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race
is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.
Remember compliments
you receive. Forget the insults. If you
succeed in doing this,
tell me how.
Keep your old love letters.
Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if
you don't know what you want to do with your life.
The most interesting
people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.
Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe
you won't. Maybe you'll have children,
maybe you won't. Maybe
you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th
wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much,
or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody
else's.
Enjoy your body. Use
it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think
of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance, even if you have
nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions,
even if you don't follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines.
They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents.
You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings.
They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick
with you in the future.
Understand that friends
come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge
the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more
you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City
once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once,
but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.
Accept certain inalienable
truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get
old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices
were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else
to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy
spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with
your hair or by the time you're 40 it
will look 85.
Be careful whose advice
you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia.
Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it
off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
