Two Years Later, Mary Schmich's Mock Graduation Speech Continues To Inspire

Here's some advice: Be very careful about giving advice.

Just ask Mary Schmich, who unwittingly boarded the celebrity roller coaster two years ago after writing a quickie newspaper column - a wry, ruminative collection of life lessons.

After burning tracks all over the Internet, her words have now morphed into an international hit song, the perfect anthem for this year's graduation season. It's also spawned a video, a book, posters, mugs and baseball caps.

"It's the column that will not die," said Schmich, 45, during a phone interview from Chicago. "Every time I think it's over, that I've had my 15 minutes of fame, it comes back again."

Two years ago, Schmich, a columnist for the Chicago Tribune, wrote a mock graduation speech (at left) that was both serious and light-hearted. It began with this now-famous bit of wisdom: "Wear sunscreen."

The piece is now arguably the most widely disseminated advice column ever.

It's easy to see why the column has been so widely embraced. Its message is reassuring to young people anxious about the future: "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."

And for older fans, it toes the traditional line: "Get to know your parents. You don't know when they'll be gone for good."

Through the magic of mass e-mails and the Internet, the column began popping up in computer mailboxes from Australia to Europe to North America. But somewhere along the line, the column was misidentified as a graduation speech delivered at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology by writer Kurt Vonnegut. When the hoax was revealed, and true ownership re-established, the incident became grist for pop-culture pundits pontificating on what the incident revealed about modern life and the power of the Internet.

Schmich (pronounced Schmeek), bemused and bewildered by her cyberadventure, went along for the ride. She endured countless interviews, appeared on "Nightline" and penned a few more columns out of the whole bizarre incident. Then, as these things go, it mostly died down. That, Schmich thought, was end of story.

Fast forward to two years later. Schmich, and her column, are again all over the Internet.

This time it's all over the airwaves, too, in the form of a strange, spoken-word song that mixes her words with an ambient hip-hop track. It's the unlikeliest hit since Benedictine monks chanted their way up the charts a few years back.

Once again she is fielding interviews, retelling her tale and receiving e-mail from fans all over the world.

"This has invaded my life in ways that are both disorienting and extremely gratifying," said Schmich. "I've heard from thousands of people and it moves me very deeply. I feel a strange sense of obligation to it now. Because people take the words seriously, I have to take their response seriously."

But she's still adjusting to the demands of celebrity. She agrees to the morning drive-time radio shows, but has nixed a book tour. ("I really have trouble calling this a book," she said of the small volume that manages, through large and playful type, to stretch a column into a 54-page book.) She agreed to pose for a photo for this story, only after considerable nudging.

The hype is not likely to slow down in the immediate future.

Earlier this month, just days after it was released in the United Kingdom, "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)," a song based on Schmich's column, rocketed to the top of the charts. That followed the song's unexpected success in the U.S., where over the past two months it steadily climbed Billboard's Top 200.

The song is the creation of Australian movie director Baz Luhrmann, who bought the rights to use the column after getting a copy by e-mail two years ago. He spliced the column and the choral version of a dance tune called "Everybody's Free (To Feel Good)" and released it in Australia, where it became a hit in December 1997. When released in the U.S. a year and a half ago, it was mostly ignored.

But late last year, a Portland disc jockey rediscovered the song and edited it down from seven to five minutes. It soon began to get heavy rotation on playlists across the country, building up steam in the past few months.

With the approach of graduation season, the song tapped an audience receptive to its message.

The column/lyrics were soon splashed on Web sites throughout the Internet. The song was performed on "The Tonight Show" and "The View," and the video aired on MTV and VH1. Anecdotal tales abounded of lives changed and rifts healed by the song. A fan telephoned Schmich and said she planned to stitch the lyrics on a quilt for her mother.

"This has been really fascinating to see: how a piece like this travels through pop culture," she said. "I sit at my cubicle and watch this happen. I have not made any effort to make this happen. I just wanted to write a column."

There's also the inevitable backlash.

A columnist in England described the lyrics as "the words of a barroom philosopher dressed up in mock-poetic language to appeal to half-educated people" and fretted about a generation taking to heart the "pseudo-intellectual musings." Others criticized Schmich for her "platitude problem."

Then there are the parodies. Schmich knows of at least 40 spoofs of the column, including several "Star Wars" versions ("Wear a lightsaber . . ."), others by cat-lovers and bicyclists. A high-school student reacting to the recent spate of school shootings began her parody with: "Wear a bulletproof vest."

"It's also been incorporated into God knows how many graduation speeches," Schmich said.

Even Kurt Vonnegut's.

In a graduation address at Agnes Scott College in Decatur, Ga., the 76-year-old novelist slyly quoted the column that was once widely credited to him. He told his audience: "I hope you are all wearing sunscreen."

Schmich gleefully notes, though, that she's added the latest twist to their history: After getting hold of Vonnegut's graduation speech, she "stole" a couple of paragraphs from his address for a column.

Sunscreen's spread into pop culture continues in other forms. The song's success has fueled interest in the column's other incarnations.

The gift book, titled "Wear Sunscreen: A Primer for Real Life," is in its eighth printing.

There are now 138,000 copies of the book in print. For a while this spring, Barnes & Noble was selling about 2,500 copies a week.

The T-shirts, caps and posters bearing Schmich's words also are selling briskly. So far, the Tribune Co., which owns the copyright to the words, has limited the use of the material to ways that are respectful of the original work. That means no commercials for sunscreen, Schmich said, though there have been offers.

During the column's initial surge of popularity, Schmich made only $87 in royalties because her employer owned the copyright. But that's begun to change.

"The Tribune is very generous with Mary and she does get a piece of this," said Joe Leonard, a Tribune associate editor who has negotiated the deals spawned by the column.

Even when the current frenzy ends, the column has the potential to become a graduation-season perennial.

Not surprisingly, Schmich receives several invitations to speak at graduations, but has turned down all but one: an invitation to address the MIT class of 2000 at a Thanksgiving ceremony. ("I couldn't say no to that one," Schmich said, relishing the irony.)

How does she feel about having the "sunscreen speech" be the thing for which she'll be remembered? "I don't mind. If you even get one thing, that's something."

More words from the wise.

--------------------------------------------------------- `Screen' with envy? Some spoofs of Schmich's sunny speech ---------------------------------------------------------

From www.somethingfunny.com

Dance. But remember, if you make a fool of yourself at your cousin's wedding reception, people will remind you of it for the rest of your life.

Elvis is dead. Get over it.

Never eat anything bigger than your head. Trust me on that one.

Unless you like the way you look wearing a hearing aid, turn the volume down. NOW!

"Everybody's Free (To Get Sunburned)," by comedian Cledus T. Judd

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Who knows, you may need theirs for a transplant some day.

Belch. Just belch.

Friends come and go, but some stick around and bum off you for the rest of your miserable, minimum-wage life. . . .

Be careful whose advice you buy, especially when you're paying $2.99 a minute for it on the Psychic Hotline.

From John Safran's "Not the Sunscreen Song"

Remember, you can wear your underwear four times without washing them: forward, backward, inside-out forward, inside-out backward.

Also understand that friends will come and go. That is because of your irritating personality. Nobody likes you.

Get to really know your parents. They're good for money.

---------------- `Wear Sunscreen' ----------------

Here's the text of Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich's 1997 mock graduation speech.

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 '97:

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.