Baz Luhrmann – Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)

A single released by Australian director Baz Luhrmann (Strictly Ballroom, Romeo & Juliet, Moulin Rouge). He reads a newspaper column written in 1997 by Mary Schmich. An excellent example of how to live without regret.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTJ7AzBIJoI

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ’99
“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.

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The Mayonnaise Jar & Two Beers

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the two beers.

 

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

 

The professor then picked up a box of small pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

 

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous “yes”.

 

The professor then produced two beers from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

 

“Now,” said the professor as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.”

 

“The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.”

 

“The sand is everything else—the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.”

 

“Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first—the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”

 

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled and said, “I’m glad you asked.'”

 

“The beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of beers with a friend.”