I Hate Everyone, Except You(61)
Life went on, as it tends to, if you’re lucky. Courtney married her high school boyfriend after she graduated from college. Today they have two beautiful sons, the older one named Clinton. I got a little choked up when they announced that decision. We talk all the time about things like our marriages and her kids and our parents and our mutual love of wallpaper. And once in a while she asks her big brother for a favor.
*
“I don’t know, Courtney. High school was different for me,” I said. “You don’t understand.”
She was quiet on the other end of the line, then said, “You’re right. I probably don’t completely understand, but I think it would be a nice thing for you to do. There are probably a bunch of kids in this class who hate high school as much as you did. Do it for them. Besides, you’re rich and famous. Who the hell cares what a few brats think of you?”
I accepted the invitation and regretted it immediately. So, I stopped thinking about it until the morning of the graduation ceremony, when I couldn’t ignore it any longer. What did I want to say? What did these kids want to hear? What were they capable of hearing? Would anyone heckle me? Could I cancel? Would they understand just how chic a mustard-brown cap-toe oxford is, especially when paired with a light-gray checked suit?
“Thank you so much for inviting me here today,” I began. “It really is an honor and a pleasure to speak to the Comsewogue Class of 2014 as you embark upon the next phase of your journey into adulthood. I graduated from this very school in 1987. Every guy had a mullet. Every girl had a perm. And the school looked exactly as it does today, like a Lithuanian prison.
“Because I graduated twenty-seven years ago, I’m roughly the same age as your parents, which quite frankly is very . . . how do I say this . . . depressing. Like really, really depressing. Have you seen those people? They are so old. But I won’t be too rough on them because I suppose they’re good people. I don’t know that for sure, but you’re here and not in jail so they can’t be all that bad.
“As I was thinking about what to say to you today, I realized that when I was your age, I never would have taken the advice of some dude who was forty-five. Gross. But I would have listened to that old guy if he told me how to become rich and famous. So, Comsewogue Class of 2014, today I am going to share with you the secrets of becoming rich and famous!
“Secret Number One: Dump the Fucking Assholes.
“Dump ’em! There are people in your life who make you feel great about yourself. Keep them around. For as long as possible. Then there are people who will drain your life force, drop by drop, because making you feel empty makes them feel full. Life is a little screwed up like that. But you have a choice today, and every day until your last day on earth, when you find yourself in the company of someone who makes you feel fat or stupid or ugly or worthless or untalented to say, perhaps not even aloud, ‘You’re a real fucking asshole, and I want absolutely nothing to do with you. Have a nice life, because I’m outta here, douchebag.’
“And if you happen to be dating an asshole, dump him or dump her tonight. And whatever you do, don’t make babies with an asshole. You will be stuck with the asshole for eighteen years, at least.
“Secret Number Two of Becoming Rich and Famous: Don’t Be a Fucking Asshole.
“Everybody here today—every student, parent, teacher, grandparent, television host—is guilty of being an asshole at one point or another. We all say insensitive things every once in a while. We all commit little acts that hurt each other from time to time. But your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to be an asshole as rarely as possible.
“First of all, it’s just the right thing to do, but that might not be enough to convince you. So I will tell you what your parents might not have told you: Not being an asshole can make you more money. When people like you, they give you jobs, they give you raises, they give you promotions, they buy your products.
“And that’s not all! Not being an asshole will make you hotter. I’m not kidding. I went to my twenty-year high school reunion, and all the nicest people were exponentially better-looking than the people who were assholes. It was actually kind of shocking. So if you don’t want to be nice because it’s the right thing to do, be nice because the alternative is that you end up all busted twenty years from now.
“Secret Number Three of Becoming Rich and Famous: Forget Everything Bad That Has Ever Happened to You.
“If that sounds impossible to do, you are right. But aspire to it anyway. When you wake up tomorrow morning, you can spend your energy thinking about all the people who have done you wrong: the teacher who gave you a C when you deserved an A; the popular kid who called you a dork; or worse, the coach that never understood your value to the team. You can think about all that stuff—but you will never be able to change it.
“The energy you spend with your head in the past will never get you closer to the future you dream for yourself. I have been called every name in the book, and I honestly don’t care because . . . What you think of me says more about you than it does about me.
“I’ll repeat that. What you think about me says more about you than it does about me.
“That thought might be too deep for you right now, but someday it’s gonna click and you’re gonna be like, That Clinton Kelly is a fucking genius! And I’m gonna be like, Yeah, no shit.