On Tue, 19 Feb 2013 12:24:15 -0500, Tom Colket <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>However, the list discussion reminded me
>of one of favorite graduation speeches, written by Mary Schmich, a columnist
>for the newspaper "The Chicago Tribune" in 1997. The text was never
>actually given as a speech; rather, it was written by Ms. Schmich as the speech
>she _would_ have given if she had been asked to address a graduating class.
And now for the rest of the story:
It was recorded and it made it onto top ten lists.
>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.
Check. Check. Check.
As for graduation speeches my wife and I were perfectly satisfied to listen
to one on the radio. Going home from a friends one night we got in the car
and the radio was part way into what we could tell has a commencement speech
(it was that time of year.) We figured that it was for Boston University as
the radio was set to their station. We almost switched stations but the
voice was familar but it could not be placed with a name right away. We
became fascinated with what the man was saying. We listened to the
commencement speech for 45 minutes until the end. It turned out to be given
by the actor, Jason Alexander, who played George Constanza on "Seinfeld". He
had attended Boston University but dropped out before getting a degree.
I just looked for the speech on the web but it looks like it is an almost
lost treasure. This is all I found:
I am famous. This is a large part of why I was asked to speak here today . .
. It is a large part of the reason I received an honorary doctorate today
when in fact I don't even have a bachelor's degree -- because I'm famous. I
would like to think that it's also because I'm a pretty good guy, and I'm
passionate about my craft and business, but it's not. It's because I'm
famous, and the funny thing is that my fame is a complete accident . . .
Fame, this thing that I have, is very rare, very strange, and very
meaningless. It's a poor measure of success . . . Look beyond the veneer of
what you consider success. I would like you to try to focus now and for the
rest of your lives not on glory, but on greatness.