Eind jaren 90 schreef columnist Mary Schmich in de Chicago Tribune een inspirerend en vooral humoristisch manifest. Het artikel zat vol herkenbaarheid en wist op een leuke toon wijsheid door te geven. Filmregisseur Baz Luhrmann maakte er een videoclip van die in 1997 iedereen inspireerde om een beter mens te worden. En om zonnebrand op te smeren!
Voor het gemak heb ik naast deze onderstaande videoclip, ook de lyrics eronder geplakt. Wat een tijdloze wijsheid, nietwaar?
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’97…
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;
you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth
until they have 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’re 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 bubblegum.
The real troubles in your life
are apt to be things that never crossed
your worried mind;
the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts,
don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
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 the 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.
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
what ever 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 what other people think of it,
it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own…
even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own 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 are the best link to your past
and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go,
but for the precious few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle
because the older you get,
the more you need the people you knew 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.
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 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.