Dear College Kids

Undergrads: I hope you chose a vocational school.  Please tell me you went in, preternaturally smart at eighteen, and said, "I'm going to be a doctor!"  Please tell me you chose SOMETHING.  If you are in a liberal arts school, like my beloved alma mater, just hope they pass you a jug of lube along with your diploma, because you are going to be screwed for the foreseeable future. 

Grad students: Let's hope you picked smart when you went to undergrad, because the bills you are going to face when you get out will never get paid by the job you may or may not get when you finally re-enter the real world.  A degree in business will get you nothing anymore, expect something to hang on the wall of the hovel you can't afford to rent.  For many of you, you'll be at least 25, and may have never had a real job before.  You'll be the first to be eaten.

Our parents didn't have it like this.  If they went to college, they were guaranteed a job.  If they did that job, even passably well, they could keep that job for life, with the benefits, raises, and pension that came with it.  They were able to get married at 21, and buy a house, because of the security.  I've had my job for eight years.  If I stayed until I retired, I wouldn't have a pension.  I can't count on raises, and my benefits were sliced so bad you'd think they were part of a ginsu commercial.Ward and June Cleaver didn't have to worry that Wally and The Beav would be living with them until they died.  Wally probably looked at a college campus and was deemed smart enough by that glance to be a CEO, and Beaver was drafted by the Dodgers straight out of little league and was given 72 virgins as a draft bonus. 

Where does this leave us?  It leaves us as a generation that either got lucky and found a good job that pays well, or a bad job that pays something, or we had to move back home and live in extended adolescence.  You don't meet your future wife by bringing her back to mom and dad's house at  age thirty.  You get labeled a weirdo, and you spend your Friday nights at work, or watching whatever crazy antics Tim Allen has gotten into while eating cold Acme brand Mac and Cheez knockoff in your childhood living room.  That's how the Unabomber started, just an FYI.

Another gem to consider: if you can't even afford to rent an apartment, you will never be able to save enough to retire before you drop dead at you desk at work.  Companies now try to hire only part time, regardless of your skill level, so they don't have to pay benefits.  Should you have gone to grad school and amassed that debt, no amount of part time work will alleviate that.

Somehow, those my age and younger, the world decided to hit the reset button on us.  There's no playbook anymore on how to be successful, how to be happy, and how to make a life for yourself.  Everyone whose parents aren't funneling them money is thrown into a pit and told to fight until you either win or lose.  Most of us are losers. 

So, if you just got back to campus for that final semester, please enjoy yourself.  Drink, hang out with your friends, and just have fun.

It's bad out here, and I'm not sure it's ever going to get better.