Kurt Vonnegut
Dan Kohn (dan@teledesic.com)
Thu, 31 Jul 1997 20:05:17 -0700
>Kurt Vonnegut's commencement address at MIT:
>
>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 pm 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.