last ever newspaper article unedited
Enjoy The Power and Beauty of Your YOUth!
This piece is way late. Like any other senior is naturally inclined to do (consult WebMD for more information on the oft-bemoaned ailment “senioritis”), I have used the last few weeks as time to slack off. School is treated more like a holding pen than a prep and when the loud metal gate opens, I forget where I had just been and anything I had been assigned to do while impounded. Mr. Menicucci surprisingly has not lost fate in my ability to deliver and of course I would; it's the last issue of the paper that I will ever write for.
Wait. That was it, that is what has been looming in the back of my mind for so long. A mantra, a warning, a call that, when truly mulled over, strikes fear and longing and sadness and joy and so many other emotions into my heart: the end. is. near.
The class of 2008 graduates in three weeks. What happens then? Are we ready? How is it that we will be the only Salesianum Class of 2008, ever? How can we leave our mark? I'm going to stop asking questions because that was central to something I wrote at the very beginning of this year. Instead, I'm going to make myself comfortable with this whole packing up and moving on thing by writing about what (I think) I know best: music.
There are a few songs you can instantly tie to graduation. Third Eye Blind's “Graduate” directly addresses the frustration and uncertainty of being on the brink of freedom but the question always remains: will I even make it there? In some way I (and therefore, hopefully, a lot of you) can relate you these largely unprintable lyrics. I'll summarize: there are times when one may feel inadequate (“can I look at faces that I meet?”) especially under these new titles like “adult” and “graduate” to the point where the anxiety brought on by a whole new stage of life doesn't seem like something to reach for. One reacts -- maybe in an anti-authoritarian manner, maybe not - but eventually rises above it all and achieves, hopefully, their potential or whatever else it is they're seeking.
Every year, around this time, Vitmain C becomes more than just something your body needs. An otherwise obscure, one-hit record-label-machine called Vitamin C for her tangy orange hair charts with a bland slice of radio airtime set to Pachelbel's Canon in D (as if it hasn't been exploited enough in wedding ceremonies and at Christmas time) called.... “The Graduation Song (Friends Forever).” It takes a more assured, idealistic look at the yearly routine. It's a well-lit photograph of schoolmates chatting about their perfect futures, taking advantage of this last chance for... framed by a chorus that will be immortalized in AIM away messages throughout late May and into June. “The Graduation Song” accomplishes what it just had to set out to do (because it's so well executed) which is to be that crying shoulder, that song that is the soundtrack to teenage sentimentality on too-hot evenings that will be forever remembered.
I am certain there is only one commencement speech to ever have been put into heavy rotation on mainstream radio. That, of course, would be “Everybody's Free (to Wear Sunscreen)”. The lyrics, spoken by a comforting, likely middle-age male, were actually taken from a column by Mary Schmich of the Chicago Triune, published June 1, 1997 as the commencement speech she would give in the event of her ever being asked. Director Baz Luhrman, arguably Generation X's ultimate auteur with his fast-paced adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, drafted actor Lee Perry to read it over a gorgeous backing track and the effect is... well, pretty much most of the things I would ever want to say about this Herculean step in each of our lives.
The introduction, all voiceover and no music, is medically sound and sensible and we all know it: wear sunscreen, it's the drug-store gift that keeps giving. But, as soon as the beat kicks in, the first line hits you like an idealogical punch to the back of your neck: enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.
Fellows, our time is now. We are young, soon to be released from what sometimes feels like a prison or a full-time job but what really is one of the most engrossing and enriching experiences we will have in our lives. Whether you have enjoyed yourself or not, taken advantage of this place or simply have let it slip into the trash, some things will always be true: our school was always there for us, was completely different (better, even) than what we could have gotten anywhere else and has put us on a path to somewhere. What we need to do now is live for every opportunity possible because, contrary to popular belief, we are not indestructible. Also, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that most of our chances for anything come now, soon, within the next few years. Work toward anything, everything, be the best (and that doesn't have to be a bad thing! Be the best whatever you want! It doesn't call for male-dominance) leave your mark.
I'm mad, I'm coming off so generic I feel, but the surprising thing is these blasé locutions straight out of the self-help section are actually smart. Life actually does hand us a pretty huge amount of power at this point in our lives and in different ways we are beautiful and know beautiful experiences (that come with being young). There's physical power, of course, we're all in top form (though, like I said, not indestructible); we are given a piece of paper called a diploma which, if Mr. Losapio and/or Ryan Datz '08 is right, makes us more qualified than 90-95 percent of the world; we can vote (please, if you listen to anything I say, let it be “Go register.”); we are off to build a future in dorms and libraries or putting our minds to a trade which, whether your jaded self chooses to see it or not, will have a huge bearing on this world we live in. Carpe Diem baby, seize it, seize it, seize it because look outside: life right now is beautiful.
This piece is way late. Like any other senior is naturally inclined to do (consult WebMD for more information on the oft-bemoaned ailment “senioritis”), I have used the last few weeks as time to slack off. School is treated more like a holding pen than a prep and when the loud metal gate opens, I forget where I had just been and anything I had been assigned to do while impounded. Mr. Menicucci surprisingly has not lost fate in my ability to deliver and of course I would; it's the last issue of the paper that I will ever write for.
Wait. That was it, that is what has been looming in the back of my mind for so long. A mantra, a warning, a call that, when truly mulled over, strikes fear and longing and sadness and joy and so many other emotions into my heart: the end. is. near.
The class of 2008 graduates in three weeks. What happens then? Are we ready? How is it that we will be the only Salesianum Class of 2008, ever? How can we leave our mark? I'm going to stop asking questions because that was central to something I wrote at the very beginning of this year. Instead, I'm going to make myself comfortable with this whole packing up and moving on thing by writing about what (I think) I know best: music.
There are a few songs you can instantly tie to graduation. Third Eye Blind's “Graduate” directly addresses the frustration and uncertainty of being on the brink of freedom but the question always remains: will I even make it there? In some way I (and therefore, hopefully, a lot of you) can relate you these largely unprintable lyrics. I'll summarize: there are times when one may feel inadequate (“can I look at faces that I meet?”) especially under these new titles like “adult” and “graduate” to the point where the anxiety brought on by a whole new stage of life doesn't seem like something to reach for. One reacts -- maybe in an anti-authoritarian manner, maybe not - but eventually rises above it all and achieves, hopefully, their potential or whatever else it is they're seeking.
Every year, around this time, Vitmain C becomes more than just something your body needs. An otherwise obscure, one-hit record-label-machine called Vitamin C for her tangy orange hair charts with a bland slice of radio airtime set to Pachelbel's Canon in D (as if it hasn't been exploited enough in wedding ceremonies and at Christmas time) called.... “The Graduation Song (Friends Forever).” It takes a more assured, idealistic look at the yearly routine. It's a well-lit photograph of schoolmates chatting about their perfect futures, taking advantage of this last chance for... framed by a chorus that will be immortalized in AIM away messages throughout late May and into June. “The Graduation Song” accomplishes what it just had to set out to do (because it's so well executed) which is to be that crying shoulder, that song that is the soundtrack to teenage sentimentality on too-hot evenings that will be forever remembered.
I am certain there is only one commencement speech to ever have been put into heavy rotation on mainstream radio. That, of course, would be “Everybody's Free (to Wear Sunscreen)”. The lyrics, spoken by a comforting, likely middle-age male, were actually taken from a column by Mary Schmich of the Chicago Triune, published June 1, 1997 as the commencement speech she would give in the event of her ever being asked. Director Baz Luhrman, arguably Generation X's ultimate auteur with his fast-paced adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, drafted actor Lee Perry to read it over a gorgeous backing track and the effect is... well, pretty much most of the things I would ever want to say about this Herculean step in each of our lives.
The introduction, all voiceover and no music, is medically sound and sensible and we all know it: wear sunscreen, it's the drug-store gift that keeps giving. But, as soon as the beat kicks in, the first line hits you like an idealogical punch to the back of your neck: enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.
Fellows, our time is now. We are young, soon to be released from what sometimes feels like a prison or a full-time job but what really is one of the most engrossing and enriching experiences we will have in our lives. Whether you have enjoyed yourself or not, taken advantage of this place or simply have let it slip into the trash, some things will always be true: our school was always there for us, was completely different (better, even) than what we could have gotten anywhere else and has put us on a path to somewhere. What we need to do now is live for every opportunity possible because, contrary to popular belief, we are not indestructible. Also, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that most of our chances for anything come now, soon, within the next few years. Work toward anything, everything, be the best (and that doesn't have to be a bad thing! Be the best whatever you want! It doesn't call for male-dominance) leave your mark.
I'm mad, I'm coming off so generic I feel, but the surprising thing is these blasé locutions straight out of the self-help section are actually smart. Life actually does hand us a pretty huge amount of power at this point in our lives and in different ways we are beautiful and know beautiful experiences (that come with being young). There's physical power, of course, we're all in top form (though, like I said, not indestructible); we are given a piece of paper called a diploma which, if Mr. Losapio and/or Ryan Datz '08 is right, makes us more qualified than 90-95 percent of the world; we can vote (please, if you listen to anything I say, let it be “Go register.”); we are off to build a future in dorms and libraries or putting our minds to a trade which, whether your jaded self chooses to see it or not, will have a huge bearing on this world we live in. Carpe Diem baby, seize it, seize it, seize it because look outside: life right now is beautiful.