Dear Me: A Sarcastic Letter to my 16 year old Self – see if you can pick out autobiographical moments

There was a popular post on WordPress Entitled: “Dear Me: A Letter to my 16 Year Old Self”. Every time I came onto WordPress I came face to face with this post, and like the dude in the fancy restaurant’s bathroom who gives you the soap to wash your hands and a paper towel to dry them, I felt violated. The bathroom isn’t a place for social interaction unless you are a celebrity looking for new methods of procuring an 8-ball from your ass. But I digress.

First off like child labor in Chinese factories making our iPod and other assorted iBULLSHIT, time-travel isn’t real, not at least till May 2012 when the new Men In Black III movie comes out. So what’s the point of writing a letter to my 16 year old self? I’m really writing a conciliatory letter to my 16 year old self who 14 years later is as fictitious a creation of my mental and imaginal musings as the hot wife I was gonna marry that needed to be serviced as much as a  running 75 Nova. Is this an exercise in catharsis? Perhaps it’s an exercise in futility like voting? Well I decided despite my protestations to go along with it and write a letter to my 16 year old self:

Dear Lil Fuckin Poppins,

A cool Cat: James Earl Jones from Conan The Barbarian

Seeing how real you kept it back in the 90’s I would be lying if I said all your dreams came true. There was no nuclear winter, and the world didn’t revert back to an age of savagery. There are no small Canadian villages to attack, no reason to have long permed hair and raid small hamlets on your quest to answer the riddle of Steel. You are going to have to find other ways to prove yourself.

You will work yourself to exhaustion a few times trying to provide for you and your family.  This will aggravate your medical condition and one days after a few months of being sick on and off  you will find yourself on the hospital bed in an inhuman amount of pain and you wont want to live any more. While this is happening  you will lose one of your 2 jobs be unable to make rent, and will be served the first of 4 eviction. I am not going to ruin the ending to that for you.

It’s not all bad, there are some high moments. I am waiting for a letter from my 45 years old self to tell me what they are. Any second it should be here because in a few months they will have discovered time travel. However the Time travel machine has only enough juice, to send you one bullshit note every 15 years or so.

Let me see you will eventually graduate from that all boys catholic high school. You will get a graduate degree, start two companies that will fail but give you some great experience for the future. In many ways , you will be the prolific bastard you have always been. You will discover girls and against all odd your first sexual experience at 23 will be the stuff of legends. However after her VISA expires she won’t call back. You will settle down with someone, she will be awesome and truly your better half in that everything you do well she will do 2 times better: complaining, making no sense, arguing, nagging, leaving makeup and other assorted bullshit all over the bathroom sink.

You will find yourself one night writing this letter. You will be 30. You will have grey hairs but a new lease of life. You will realize that you are a man among men you have suffered through what few else could have done. All the things you set out to do you will do, and you will leave behind all the snark and sarcasm be extremely jovial.

Follow Up Notes:

  1. I am not in any way knocking the original post. It was nice and Traci is a great blogger and her Adventures on the Road are inspiring. Check her out:
  2. When I was 5 I asked my father when will I know  when I am a man, he told me medically speaking when I find milk in my underwear. I kid you not, well he said calcon instead of underwear. He also referred me to the following poem by Sir Rudyard Kipling


IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
‘ Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!

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  1. I never saw Conan. J.E.J. looks like a white guy. The Wayans brothers are bigger thieves than I thought.

    I have no clue what I would say to my 16 year old self. Maybe “Take a risk and pinch her butt. At least then she’ll notice you.” I did once get an empty envelope in the mail with my handwriting on it when I was 13 years old. Could it be me saying that everything I need to know I will learn on my own?


    • Hmmm. There is nothing to learn, just helmets to wear. That’s been my philosophy. It turns out pinches a girls behind isn’t what it used to be. Turn out that isnt a way to say hello in work place according to day two of the sexual harassment prevention class.


  2. You have some hilarious stories to tell! Great choice of poem, man. My father used this to tell me how to be a man. He didn’t say about the milk though. I’m involved in a blog about the poem “If,” if (no I don’t have a stutter) if you are interested! It’s early days but I’ll try and make it as fun as this blog! If you have any tips or ideas, or would like to review it or link to it that would be awesome. Here it is: Thank you and have a great 2012.


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