Summer

So if anybody wants to do ANYTHING interesting anytime this summer, CALL ME-- 699-7838.


If the whole summer is this boring, I...don't know what I'll do...but seriously I'm bored, so call...



Current Mood: Blank

Listening To: "Cliffs of Dover" by Eric Johnson

Tomorrow (Is the First Day of the Rest of Our Lives)

I stole some quotes, apologies in advance.

It's not quite as amusing as "Advice, Like Youth, Probably Just Wasted on the Young", better known as the "Sunscreen Speech," but I think you'll get my intentions.


Here we go…

So tomorrow is the day, the big day, graduation. I've been looking forward to this for a long time, and, concurrently, wishing it never had to come. It really has snuck up quickly, the first day of Freshman year seems like eons ago, yet it seems like yesterday. I'd always wanted to give tribute to the memories of the last four years, so here is my personal valediction, my own adieu. Forgive me for being so pensive, but this is a moment too important to brush aside as just another day.

The sun is setting on another day of life. Sunsets are beautiful, at least that's what I have always thought. They're worth watching, taking the time to stop for a few minutes to reflect on what you've left behind during the last few hours, thinking about what you'll do next. This sunset is no exception, except that the day is extended into years, the hours months, the minutes the days past. So take some time to consider what you have accomplished the past few years, your successes, failures, and most importantly, experiences. The knowledge of life cannot be taught, cannot be learned academically through books, lectures, or study. It must be achieved through experience. Experience life and you will learn much.

Listen to music, music you like to hear. Music expresses that which words cannot, it is a universal language, a language spoken and understood by the soul. It will amplify your emotions, break the dams of the mind and allow your thoughts to flow, or lift you up when all hope is lost. Listen to my profile song and you'll feel what I am trying my best to say.

Dance. Sing. Scream at the top of your lungs. Express yourself. The life within you is worthless if you cannot establish yourself as an individual with thought and passion. Feel, and unleash your feelings. Don't create your own prison; allow your emotions to mingle with those of others. Relationships are established and maintained through feeling. If you can submerge yourself fully in the emotion of life, you will have good friends and a meaningful experience.

Take chances. Not unnecessary risks, risks that have no true benefit, but chances that may contribute to your life. Being overcautious will restrain your ability to live life to the fullest. I should know, I used to be that way, but am no longer. If you see a once-in-a-lifetime chance, grasp it and pull it close. I don't care what you believe in, no one knows where we go after this life, so it is important to confront those chances with welcoming arms. I believe in the Nike slogan. Just do it. Buy a Harley. Jump out of a plane. Ask her/him out. Just do it. It sounds cynical, but you just might die tomorrow, and your résumé wont help you in "the next life." So why the hell not?

Remember your past. For some, this is easier than others. For some, the past is filled with happiness and love, for some it is filled only with pain. Either way, you simply cannot have a future without a past. What you have learned, what you have lived through will always be a part of you, even if unconsciously. Remember where you lived, what you liked to do, your family, your friends. They shaped you, you are a part of them and them a part of you. Forgetting them and their contributions to your life will open a void and you will become empty, lacking a past, and, consequently, a meaningful future. Never regret doing, saying, or otherwise experiencing anything, because at the time, it was exactly what you wanted.

Smile. Enjoy life. Nobody is sure of how life came about, but as far as I'm concerned, it was intended that we have a good time with it. Absorb every sensation and appreciate it. Look at the bright side of things, be an optimist. As Andy Rooney said once, "Happiness depends more on how life strikes you than on what happens." Be happy, and smile— "Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing." You will be a more beautiful person with it.

Love. Allow others to love you. Life is valueless if you cannot unite with others, be it emotionally, mentally, physically. It is a collective experience whether you damn like it or not. In the words of John Lennon, "A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality." Live and let live, love and let love.

The sun has broken the horizon. Tomorrow is a new day for all of us, a day of years—I hope it will be a day filled with the magnificence of life for all of you. The world will not change, the stars will still glow, the waves will break in their endless rhythm, the NYSE will open at 10:00AM Eastern. But we will be different, permanently. So now, we say goodbye, until fate decides to bring us together again. I will miss seeing you all around, even if I disliked you. I will remember you; remember me. You were part of my experience, I a part of yours. But it's time to move on. Keep your eyes open, and your head up, with your past memories tucked safely into your back pocket. Take my advice, or leave it. I don't care. But remember my words, just in case.



I'll see you all tomorrow at Graduation Commencement. Goodnight and good luck.



-Kevin L. Krakauer


"Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
- Dan Wilson, Semisonic

©2008 Kevin L. Krakauer

Current Mood: Sad

Listening To: "Graduation" by Vitamin C

I'M LEGAL!

I'M EIGHTEEN!!

LEGAL!! YEAH!!

Now What?

Current Mood: Awake

Listening To: "18 Till I Die" by Bryan Adams

The Final Week of High School

It's the final week of high school. I'm starting to miss y'all already...

Now is the time for me to post this, I'm sure you've all heard or read it before, but it is by far one of my favorite pieces of writing on graduation, and life. Enjoy.


"Advice, like you, probably just wasted on the young."
By Mary Schmich, Chicago Tribune, 01 June 1997



Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.

I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt.

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '08:

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.

Current Mood: Accomplished

Listening To: "Into The Great Wide Open" by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

Another Quote

Another deep quote, one I really like.

From "Now is Forever" by Eiffel 65:

"We should think about,
what we got right now,
cause the good things are made up of time.
smile to your problems,
leave the past behind.
never forget this.
find the truth in your soul,
keeping you alive.
going on from minute to minute.
don't shade the future,
with all that's behind.
live for today."

Current Mood: Tired

Listening To: "Now Is Forever" by Eiffel 65

The Ballad of Jimmy Buffett

Something everybody should read, Jimmy Buffett's autobiography in four hundred words or less:


"In four hundred words or less, this is what happened form early adolescence until now: I broke out of the grip of Catholicism and made it through adolescence without killing myself in a car. I flunked out of college. I learned to play the guitar, lived on the beach, lived in the French Quarter, finally got laid, and didn't go to Viet Nam. I got back into school, started a band, got a job on Bourbon Street, graduated from college, flunked my draft physical, broke up my band, and went out on the road solo. I signed a record deal, got married, moved to Nashville, had my guitars stolen, bought a Mercedes, worked at Billboard Magazine, put out my first album, went broke, wrecked the Mercedes, got divorced, and moved to Key West. I sang and worked on a fishing boat, went totally crazy, did a lot of dope, met the right girl, made another record, had a hit, bought a boat, and sailed away to the Carribean. I started another band, worked the road, had my second and last hit, bought a house in Aspen, started spending summers in New England, got married, broke my leg three times in one year, had a baby girl, made more records, bought a bigger boat, and sailed away to St. Barts. I got seperated from the right girl, sold the boat, sold the house in Aspen, moved back to Key West, worked the road, and made more records. I rented an apartment in Paris, went to Brazil for Carnival, learned to fly, went into therapy, quit doing dope, bought my first seaplane, flew all over the Carribean, almost got a second divorce, moved to Malibu for more therapy, and got back with the right girl. I worked the road, moved back to Nashville, took off in an F-14 from an aircraft carrier, bought a summer home on Long Island, had another baby girl. I found the perfect seaplane and moved back to Florida. Cameron Marley joined me in the house of women. I built a home on Long Island, crashed the perfect seaplane, lived through it thanks to Navy training, tried to slow down a little, woke up one morning and I was looking at fifty, trying to figure what comes next. You have to take the best from whatever the situation is and go on. That's the whole point of the music to me. All through American history populist singers and humorists have served as the nation's tickle spot, people like Will Rogers and Mark Twain. I see myself in that vein and fulfilling that sort of responsibility. I give people a few shots. It's as much a satirical pinprick as anything else. You just have to remind people of the day-to-day funny things. When I write songs, I look for interesting little innuendoes or pieces of situations everybody has experienced."

Current Mood: Relaxed

Listening To: "Bama Breeze" by Jimmy Buffett

Midnight Essay

Sometimes you think best at the most random times. The mind turns its gears, and if you don't catch the thought it'll slip away. Its 3:30 AM, and I just woke up with this in my head. I've been wanting to write it for a while, so here goes.


Saturday.

"It's a Bittersweet Symphony, this life…"

Ashcroft's voice swoons softly from the clock radio on the desk.

Roll over and extend your arm over, fumbling with the buttons to silence him.

Fuzzy without contacts—can barely make out the numbers.

5:15 AM.

Lift the covers, letting in the cold air filling the room.

The bags are in the corner, unmoved from the night before.

Sleepily pacing the floor, gathering your things, not thinking about anything yet.

Jeans and heavy jacket slip on, the big shiny belt buckle clinks as it locks into place.

The usual routine, contacts, aftershave—the phone and iPod come off the charger, the wallet goes in the pocket.

Stumbling down the stairs through the early morning darkness, nothing stirs.

The tall shadow lurks in the corner by the door; you grab the package as the deadbolts slide open.

The door creaks loudly. Damn thing. Still no sign of life in the house.

Walk with the bags down the concrete, steps whispering quietly, the breath condenses heavily in front of your eyes.

A blinding light flashes in your dreary eyes, the spotlight in front.

Continue down the path to the street.

The industrial streetlight pours down like a diseased rain onto the bags, casting hard shadows on the street.

It's cold, very cold.

Headphones in.

Ashcroft continues, his mournful tone carrying over a beautiful masterpiece of strings.

Stare up into the sky; it stares back with a wicked, infinite blackness.

Few stars pierce the dark against the poisonous orange mass of light bleeding into the heavens.

It's 5:30 AM now.

Waiting to hear the rumble, the sound of freedom, the resonance of escape.

5:35 AM.

5:40.

You can hear it in the distance. It's coming.

Around the corner, the monster roars, the intense light of its eyes penetrates your own.

The deep, throaty tone growls powerfully as the beast stops under the light.

Step out from under the glow, and lift the bags into the back.

Although it's frigid cold, the Jeep has no top. It adds to the experience, to the coming adrenaline buildup.

Lift your foot, grasping the skeleton of the brute as you muscle yourself up the four feet separating the ground from the heat of its belly.

Richard has changed his tune.

"It's just a change in me, something in my liberty…"

An Urban Hymn.

He echoes into the distance, into the past, into the future.

The clutch lets out, the beast rolls away into the icy darkness.

The roads are empty, the lights flicking mechanically from red to green.

Nothing moves, nothing breathes.

The wheels revolve faster, gaining momentum as the mass of metal careens onto the freeway.

More stars are detectable, lighting the dead suburban landscape under the black moonless vastness.

The windmills gyrate involuntarily as you climb the first hill of many for the day, the grass swaying silently in the soft, frosty breeze.

Rolling on, music now hums from the crisp speakers overhead, the thump of the woofer rumbling through the frame.

Searing air from the combustion mixes with the coldness of the open atmosphere, creating a warm vortex behind the single pane of glass.

Crossing the vast spans of valley, the hills appear, with the godly white mountains in the distance.

It is brighter now.

The sky tinted pink, the fiery ball, the first element of life, rises over the distant peaks.

The curve of the planet bends the rays of heat and light, giving it a blood red color.

Blood red.

Down the country road, the cows shuffle around the fields, gazing at the traveling silver thing with mild interest.

The Verve continues: "Gotta love that'll never die…no, no…"

"I'm a Lucky Man…"

Clumps of snow begin to appear on the side of the road.

Clumps of white gold.

Clumps of ecstasy.

Sun's coming up.

The music gains volume.

The adrenaline is building.

Here we go again.

Up to the mountains.

Away from the city, the mass of concrete.

Away from the past.

Away from the future.

Off the grid.

Here we go again.

This is now, this is the present.

This is the reason for living.

Because skiing is a way of life.

Current Mood: Groggy

Listening To: "Bittersweet Symphony" by The Verve