The Sunscreen Song


Most of the time, people are stuck on life's crossroads. Should I go here or there. Should I turn left or go right. Should I continue to walk or should I stop and meander on the path for now. There's just too much questions. Especially if you are coming of age. By that I mean, we young people are undergoing the "growing up process". The older people would tell us how important our choices would be because they would define the next chapters of our lives. And maybe I'm into that right now. Or maybe I got past it. I really don't know. 


And then I got across an article from the Inquirer, Youngblood column (http://opinion.inquirer.net/8077/not-to-worry).  The writer was kinda undecided with her life. The only thing that helps her make sense of everything was the "Sunscreen Song" by Baz Luhrmann. She quoted several lines. I got piqued so I googled it. I found out that the song was a newspaper article first, written by Mary Schmich and published on June 1, 1997 in the Chicago Tribune. Mr. Luhrmann bought the rights of the article to turn it into a song. Eventually,  it made its way to mainstream radiowaves. 


Well, I just thought I had to post the article. Here it is:


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. 

I'm not yet 22, but I'm nearing it. And I still haven't mapped out my whole future. I'm not really a planner, you know. But I do dream of something. I'm just a bit undecided. No fickle-minded. No really, I'm still trying to weigh my options. All I know is that I'm enjoying my life right now and I'm thanking God for everything He puts in my way.




Someday, I'll be able to figure things out but I guess I'll settle on buying a sunscreen for now.

Cheers!

Labels: , , , ,

felix felicis: The Sunscreen Song

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The Sunscreen Song


Most of the time, people are stuck on life's crossroads. Should I go here or there. Should I turn left or go right. Should I continue to walk or should I stop and meander on the path for now. There's just too much questions. Especially if you are coming of age. By that I mean, we young people are undergoing the "growing up process". The older people would tell us how important our choices would be because they would define the next chapters of our lives. And maybe I'm into that right now. Or maybe I got past it. I really don't know. 


And then I got across an article from the Inquirer, Youngblood column (http://opinion.inquirer.net/8077/not-to-worry).  The writer was kinda undecided with her life. The only thing that helps her make sense of everything was the "Sunscreen Song" by Baz Luhrmann. She quoted several lines. I got piqued so I googled it. I found out that the song was a newspaper article first, written by Mary Schmich and published on June 1, 1997 in the Chicago Tribune. Mr. Luhrmann bought the rights of the article to turn it into a song. Eventually,  it made its way to mainstream radiowaves. 


Well, I just thought I had to post the article. Here it is:


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. 

I'm not yet 22, but I'm nearing it. And I still haven't mapped out my whole future. I'm not really a planner, you know. But I do dream of something. I'm just a bit undecided. No fickle-minded. No really, I'm still trying to weigh my options. All I know is that I'm enjoying my life right now and I'm thanking God for everything He puts in my way.




Someday, I'll be able to figure things out but I guess I'll settle on buying a sunscreen for now.

Cheers!

Labels: , , , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home