Where'd You Get Your Sunscreen?

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '97, Wear sunscreen,"

Ah the  ubiquitous "Wear Sunscreen." I dare anyone born between 1975 and 1990 to say they haven't heard it, or on top of that, don't love it. Since its 1998 "audio" release, it's been a staple at many graduations and coming-of-age events. With it's neat beat, and historically on-trend male vocalist, the audio version of Sunscreen was an automatic hit. It's lyrics, which offer advice on everything from skin protection and exercise science, to romance and growing old gracefully, made the song seem like it would be relevant forever, and in some ways, it still is. . . . True, it has since lost some playback starpower since the culture shock of 9-11 and fall of the American economy, but the point is,  Sunscreen struck a chord with the musical  and cultural psychology of the late nineties. It was catchy, it was relevant, it was historically on-trend. No questions about that.  But there is one thing. . . Where did it come from, this grandiloquent nod to the coming-of-age of a generation?

Despite being so eloquent in its own identity, Sunscreen, has a rather arcane history, especially when it comes to the origins of its creator, and presents not one, not two, but three possible writers...
American Author Kurt Vonnegut, Hollywood prodigy Baz Luhrmann, and Chicago columnist Mary Schmich.

 What many people, including myself didn't know was that despite it's audio release in 1998, which was, in fact, recorded by Baz Luhrmann, the actual words themselves had been written since a year earlier, and Sunshine, despite it's relatively transcendental nature, had been swirling in controversy for several months.

This confusion can be linked to an email of even more unidentified origins, in which prankster (or severely under-informed author) attached an early version of  now-familiar Sunscreen lyrics and branded the essay-like aria "Kurt Vonnegut’s Commencement Address at MIT"  and through forwarding and  early versions of social media such as message boards and chat rooms (see your history books kids!) this "message"  made its way through online America.  (Here's the thing, Vonnegut, who is best know for writing, Slaughterhouse Five,  and  Cat's Cradle was not the speaker at commencement that year, some other guy was.) But one thing was for sure, the stuff sure did sound like it belonged to Vonnegut, who is known for his satire as well as his "humanist" style. Many people just went with the idea that despite his having not appeared at commencement, the words were still Vonnegut's. Finally, the email somehow found itself into the hands of Vonnegut's wife who actually forwarded the email to the couple's five children before realizing that the information was erroneous.  So it was through is family-of-six, that Vonnegut find out about his apparent appearance at the Massachusetts commencement. Impressed by the article, Vonnegut set out to find the original author. Eventually, the speech was traced back to the Chicago Tribune and credit for the work's authorship, which had always belonged to Mary Schmich, was given.
On June 1, 1997, the Chicago Tribune ran what Schmich's article,  "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young", or what we now know as the essay/song. "Wear Sunscreen"  Schmich, a 44 year-old columnist with 12 years  of professional journalism under her belt, wrote the article as if she were addressing the year's graduating college and high school students. Schmich, who had spent half her early life traveling, then working in a college admissions office, before enrolling in journalism school was in a pretty good position to write her article, one of  which the main messages was to live live without regrets.

Even as an acclaimed author, Vonnegut found himself flattered by this case of mistaken identity and even made the following statement in a New York Times article,  ''What I said to Mary Schmich on the telephone was that what she wrote was funny and wise and charming, so I would have been proud had the words been mine,'' he said. ''But she's not hurt and I'm not hurt." A collaboration between Schmich and Vonnegut through published letters eventually resulted , in which the two examined the new and widening effect the Internet was having on information and the truth. . . and what the future of information held for the world. 

A year later, Baz Luhrmann made his musical tribute to Schmich's genius. (Schmich, by the way, gave her permission and received royalties for the article.) 

So, where are they now?

Vonnegut, one of the greatest American writers of all time,  died tragically in 2007 after falling down a flight of stairs. His legacy remains.

Schmich, still works for the Chicago Tribune, she is also the author of the widely selling adaptation, Wear Sunscreen and writes for the comic Brenda Starr.

Baz  Luhrmann  went on to write, produce, and direct several major motion pictures, including   Strictly Ballroom (1992), William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet (1996), Moulin Rouge! (2001) Australia (2008) and the upcoming The Great Gatsby (2012), starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Carey Mulligan. . .

Below are the words from Schmich's original article. The link to the article, as well as the links to other referenced material are found above.

Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young
              -- Mary Shcmich
"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.