I Am So Popular: Do Not Eat the Brown Rice

As the president of Gateway Regional High School’s class of 1982 (Holy fuck, was it really twenty-seven years ago?) I had the ironic privilege of leading the pledge of allegiance at our commencement ceremony. I say ironic because I would go on to raise a son who would be legally obligated by the State of Texas to pledge the flag unless he had a note from his parent or guardian saying he could sit it out. Of course I wrote the note—if you force someone to pledge allegiance, that’s not allegiance, that’s fucking fascism. And what about all the kids from other countries attending school here—was it right to force them to pledge? And, and…

I digress. Point is, I did not get to give the commencement speech (though I did get to write a lot of cheesy sentimental shit for the yearbook). Nor have I ever been invited to give a commencement speech to any graduating class. Oh, I’ve had the Kurt Vonnegut speech forwarded to my email inbox no less than ninety-five thousand times—the one about wearing sunscreen. And I’ve heard tell of the David Foster Wallace speech in which he, in retrospect, certainly alluded to what would be his brutal too early exit. But no one ever gave me a turn to spout the wisdom garnered from being a Jersey girl, a single mom, a problem drinker, and the stubbornest motherfucker on the planet.

Like I need a goddamn invitation.

So here you go, son—this one’s for you and all of your fellow graduates, but most especially the artistes and dreamers among you. It is my unsolicited advice to you, based on nearly three decades worth of learning courtesy of my patented Error and Error™ method of figuring life out since the graduation gown lay in rags at my feet.

Esteemed Graduates,

Congratulations. Unless you choose to go on to college, you are now officially free of the confines of big box education, standardized testing, and crappy lunches. You are, or will be soon, no longer legally obliged to follow your parents’ orders. Some of you might not realize this—I, for example, used to fall for a line my father often fed me about how until I was twenty-one I had to do just what he said. Brainwashing being a powerful tool, I actually believed that until I stopped believing it and took off.

Do not engage in a power struggle with adults who try to blackmail you into doing their will. Do not allow them to threaten you with cutting the monetary apron strings unless you, say, agree to go to college and then grad school and then get a career and do all the other things they want you to do because they are still trying to live through you just like they did at all those soccer games when they wouldn’t just shut the fuck up and enjoy the game but instead had to scream at the refs and the other team’s coach about bad calls and poor sportsmanship.

You’re free. Do you hear me? FREE!

First things first, you must learn how to fend for yourself. In our society, particularly in Austin, you can get away with some bartering, a decent amount of dumpster diving for food and furniture, and sleeping upon the couches of friends at least for brief stretches. Still, you will need some cash sooner or later. Know that restaurant work is overrated, as is panhandling, burglary, and drug dealing. House sitting and dog sitting are pretty good though, because certain people will pay good money to let you crash at their pad for extended periods of time in exchange for saying nice things to their animals. The hours are flexible and, if you think about it, you get paid to sleep.

Regarding romantic relationships. Like restaurant work, romance is also overrated. In truth, much of what we are seeking when we seek a partner is someone who will commit to helping us work through all our childhood crap. Depending on whom you pick, and depending on why they pick you, this could amount to years worth of ugly, circular arguments that in no way will compensate for the three weeks of sex-driven bliss that initially convinced you that you were right for each other for eternity. Think about this—when you have a piece of glass in your foot, all you want to do is get the glass out, stop the bleeding, and clean the wound so as to avoid infection. And yet, when you have painful, recurring interactions with your partner, for some reason, more often than not, you will choose to shove the glass in deeper, rub piles of dirt into it, and get blood all over the place.

Ask yourself—is it really worth it?

On the other hand, know that no amount of advice or even evidence offered by me is really going to prevent you from entering into such relationships. In which case I say, fine, ignore the advice but at least try to make sure those first few weeks are really, really, really fun, okay?

Do not sleep with carnies.

Early stages of alcoholism may seem romantic, especially if you are listening to lots of Tom Waits and reading the entire Bukowski collection. This is delusional thinking.

You do not have to live on ramen noodles.

Take road trips.

Learn to knit.

Do not text and drive.

Call home once in awhile. (Please?)

Know that it is far better to make your art/music/writing just the way you want it to be and get paid nothing for it than it is to crank out a bunch of soulless commercial crap to pay the rent.

On the other hand, if you are faced with the lose-lose prospect of making crappy commercial “art” or taking a desk job, probably pick the former.

My good friend Molly Ivins once told me that if you are very poor, save your pennies and use them to buy cat food because you can always trick your stomach into feeling full with a glass of water before bed but you cannot shut up a screaming cat without food.

Know that dogs are supreme beings and we are only here for a very short time to learn from them.

When someone breaks up with you, this is not a signal that you should immediately fall apart and beg to be taken back and do all sorts of dumbass shit to reconcile. It is a signal that you should go. Now.

Watch Orgazmo once a year.

Read Somerset Maugham

Know that, of all the amazing technological advances that have been made in your lifetime, the most amazing of all is this: manufacturers have figured out how to make it such that, the minute your warranty runs out—as the warranty on my Toyota did just hours ago—the item you overpaid to have a warranty on will most certainly die—as my Toyota did just hours ago. Do not be bullied into extended warranties.

Don’t wait until you’re forty-five to travel overseas.

Think long and hard before you bring a child into this world.

Avoid New Jersey.

Think much longer and much harder before you even vaguely entertain the idea of being a stepparent. If at all possible, avoid this scenario.

Remember, you can be nice or you can be right. Sometimes it’s fun to be right, fuck being nice.

Listen to Southpaw Jones.

Keep it light enough to travel.

Forgive yourself for all those clothes you used to buy at Hot Topic.

Do not, under any circumstances, listen to unsolicited advice. (Except the part about New Jersey.)

Spike Gillespie knows that it’s wrong but she secretly wishes her son would take her on his upcoming road trip. She blogs at www.knitbuzz.blogspot.com and www.spikeg.com.