There was a high school graduate who couldn’t wait to leave home and the rigors and rigidity of “the nest.” He thought his parents were the dumbest people on the face of planet Earth. Four years later, he graduated from college and for all he learned in four years, the most significant was wisdom that came from the experience of being on his own. He was surprised at how smart his parents had become in four years. Kind of a spin on the Mark Twain quote.

Wisdom is a wonderful virtue that is said to improve with age. The reason for that, of course is that it comes through experience. You can place your hand on a hot stove at an early age and get a nasty burn. The next time you go to put your hand there, you don’t. That’s wisdom. Wisdom that comes from experience.

When you don’t heed the inner warnings of your soul that has learned things, you begin to tempt fate. This is a fine line between ignorance and insanity. The results for a thrill-seeker can be catastrophic. The results for someone trying to “fit in” can be fatal.

There was a high school party back, once upon a time. The “me” generation was up to bat. It was their time to shine. It was their time to experience. It was their time to “show the world a thing or two.” 

Following in the footsteps of those who went before in the previous decade, they embarked on a journey to their own euphoria. It was a failed attempt at life itself and the concepts that could have taken them into tomorrow.

It was a typical graduation party, or “rave” as they call it today. They were so much smarter than all those voices of reason and warning. Their whole life was before them and they were going to storm the castle. They brought drugs and they brought alcohol and they were going to change the world with their defiance of law and rule. They knew more. They were the “ME.”

As the party wore on, many brave brain cells had given their lives in this war of rebellion. A young man who had enlisted in the Navy and was experiencing his last hours with his friends began to drink heavily. To no one’s surprise, he became impaired, and everyone was laughing at his antics. Oh, how they loved to see his personality change from stability to comedy. 

But it wasn’t enough for some. They wanted to “enhance” his imbibing pleasure and dropped a pill into his beer. He soon waned in his popularity as his body began to shut down. Everyone went on to the next “comedian.” This young man passed out on the front lawn in the midst of 200 kids milling and stepping over him and pointing and laughing at the little soldier who was going to go off to Vietnam and would defend his country tomorrow morning.

It was about 11 p.m. Someone finally went to check on him. He wasn’t breathing. There was a great debate about dragging him somewhere else and not calling the police because they didn’t want to have to end this epic party “too soon.” 

Finally, after about 20 minutes, someone with a ray of sanity declared that something needed to be done. She called the police to the rage and fear of all the party goers. Chaos ensued. People scrambled, the music still blared from the stereo on the back patio, cars were squealing away at intense bursts of speed.

And then the sirens. That eerie feeling in the midst of the critical. The paramedics were called, and that young man was pronounced dead at the scene. The paramedic looked up at those few who remained and who were to shoulder the burden of his words for the rest of their lives as he said, “If you had called five minutes earlier, we might have been able to save him.” Five minutes. Such a short time to determine life and death.

There would be no American Flag draped over his coffin for he would not serve. He truly did spend his last remaining hours with his generation, but there was no wisdom in it. There was no tomorrow for him. There would be no more learning, living or laughing. There was no joy. There was no peace. There was only regret in a time when so many should have been celebrating a graduation. That class attended a funeral. 

There are so many words out there that need to be defined by this next generation that is hoping to change their world. Responsible. Consequences. Character. Honor. Dignity. Purpose. Destiny. They must learn from experience. Their own and the experience of those who went before them. There are some voices that echo from the grave that they must not turn away from. And when they do learn and wisdom comes gently in that good night, they must listen as she speaks.

The voice of the rebel says, “It could never happen to me.” The sound of weeping at an unexpected end says otherwise. Wisdom teaches us to know our days, heed our limitations, press toward our purpose and delight in our destiny.

The song of the “me” generation rings true today. Back then, the few that listened… survived. It was a song written by Graham Nash entitled Teach Your Children. It is the second verse that hopefully speaks to the children of this new millennium. 

“And you, of the tender years can’t know the fears that your elders grew by, and so please help them with your youth, they seek the truth before they can die. Teach your parents well, their children’s hell will slowly go by, and feed them on your dreams, the one they fix, the one you’ll know by. Don’t you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry, so just look at them and sigh and know they love you…”