A Rock Star’s Commencement Speech for the Graduating Class 0f 2006

All right, Class of 2004!… What? … Really? Are you sure? Okay. Sorry, Class of 2006! Rock on! Wow, I remember my High School Graduation, like it was last Tuesday. It was all in the gymnasium, the speaker was Randy Rhodes and the opening act was Foghat. Afterwards, six of us, including that hot English teacher Mrs. Landry got naked and baked homemade donuts in the cafeteria until dawn.

Wait a tic… Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I didn’t do this graduation thing at all. Yes, I now seem to remember being backstage at Van Halen’s "Live Without A Net" show and being told I was missing out on some silly diploma. Hmm… Well, no matter. I’m here now and most importantly, you’re all here, witnessing my huge success and obscene wealth. That’s right. I actually flew in today on a private jet and will fly out on an even more privater one. How ‘bout that bit of trivia, 1987 yearbook staff? Who’s the most likely to do drugs and die in a fiery plane crash, now?

All right enough about me and my perfect body. Let’s talk about you and your boring ambitions. I’d like to know what you all want to take away from this ceremony. Well, we all know the ladies’ answer is a hedonistic romp in the sack with yours truly, but what about the men? What will you men take with you after you head out into that crippling void that is the working world? Ambition? Drive? A new suit? I don’t think so, boys…

I’ll tell you right here and now the one single solitary thing you’ll take away from this day, gentlemen: Envy and regret.

That’s right, fellas. Sure, you can sit there and think you have a career plan all carved out for yourself. You’ll go to college, stay away from drinking and drugs, maybe even finish in four years. There'll be a job offer, promotions from within. Dinners, nice cars and a wife and 2.3 kids in the country somewhere. You’ll have lots of couples friends and Tuesdays at Fuddruckers for mudslides and Jalapeno poppers. Mom and Dad will visit for Christmas and Easter with Santa’s elves and the mother fuckin virgin Marie serving drinks on a golden camel’s back!

Sounds like heaven in a Pepsi can, doesn’t it, boys? On paper… On the outside, it is. But through all the promotions, through all the cars kids and bible character bartenders, one thing will keep gnawing at the back of your brain like a rat on rotten apples: Envy and regret. You’ll look around at your perfectly planned life and your thoughts will keep wandering back to this day and this iconic beauty right in front of you. Me. All your thoughts will turn to that of envy for me and my rock star lifestyle. “How could I be so blind?” you’ll wonder. “Why did I waste all that time and energy to simply own one house and Mazda Miata?”

And with all the whys comes the regret. Things can only spiral downward after there. You’ll foolishly try and fix your pain with an electric guitar off eBay, maybe even become good enough to join an airport lounge band. That fire will soon be extinguished, however. There are meetings and business trips. Soccer games, piano recitals and family time at home, watching CSI and American Idol. You’ve made your life and now you have to lie in it, fella. So sit back, grab a Bud Light and watch the pay per view special of me and my band rock Central Park for free. Look at that band on the TV. Look at them dance and wiggle for the hot chicks in bikinis below. Oh yes, you know those ladies will be with the band after the show. Too bad, that could’ve been you.

All right, so in conclusion, rock well, rock often and stay away from the homemade donuts in the cafeteria.