Ben Karlin

Charge to the Graduates, Winter 2006 Commencement

Chancellor Wiley, faculty, parents, friends, family and students of the Class of 2006 — specifically Abbott, John Philip; Ably, Emily Karen; Abrahamson, Christopher Eugene; Abram, Alexis Marie; Ackerman, Joseph John. ... I do have the whole list.

It is indeed a great honor for me to be here this afternoon. When I was a student at UW, I worked at the Daily Cardinal and covered the Badger football team. My job was to try to write positive stories about a football team that back then was only winning one or two games a year. That’s when I knew I had a future in fake news.

But today I am proud to stand with you. And I really am standing with you. I stand on this stage on this globally warm December morn feeling very much your kindred spirit. In fact, see if you can relate to this: I’ve spent the last several years working very hard doing something I love, but I’ll be moving on from that world in just a matter of days. The last four to seven years have been spent in a structured, yet friendly and fun environment. I’ve made amazing friends, lived through some emotional and historic times, and now in a few days it will all be over.

I’m excited, but a little nervous about the future. I will continue to see some of the people that I’ve been working with, but it really will never be the same. The only real difference between you and me today is that I probably have more stuff than you. It happens. You say it won’t, but you accumulate things like toolboxes and photos and pots and pans that you actually like. I even have a wife!

But those are earthbound details. For all intents and purposes, and certainly for the purposes of this premise, I am you, you are me, and we all need a job.

So, in this your final lecture as students of the University of Wisconsin, I intend to share with you everything I know about being on the right path in life. This is a task I take very seriously. I want to make this count. I believe you don’t want bullshit philosophy, though, according to my records, that is what 249 of you are getting degrees in today.

Now you may say, “How can you give advice that applies to all of us? We are a mass of humanity with hundreds of different goals, different definitions of happiness.” It is true. You are bound only by accident of birth or geography, and I believe in three cases, recruiting class. So what? The last thing you need to hear right now is kitchen wisdom passed off as sage advice. Do you really need someone to tell you to always wear sunscreen or to always carry around ChapStick? If you’ve made it this far and are still on the fence about ChapStick, I can’t help you.

Now I came here to tell you about the big stuff — the gut-check moments. What matters most. Graduates, I am here to tell you — when you get to the fork in the road, always go left. Don’t ask why. Just do it. And if two roads do diverge in a yellow wood, take the path most traveled. Chances are it’s most traveled for a reason, like because it’s awesome. And while we are on the subject of roads, it may not rise to meet you. If that happens, go meet it. No one I have ever met has ever gone anywhere waiting for a road.

So how will you know, now that you are leaving academia’s protective embrace, whether you are on the right track or wrong track in life? Well, here’s what I’ve learned — sometimes the hard way:

You are on the wrong track in life, if, before heading out for a night with Paris Hilton, you think – β€œIt would take too long for me to put on underwear.”

You are also on the wrong track if you are known by name at any of the following places: the local OTB, a pawn shop, that place that buys human hair for money. You are on the wrong track in life if you find yourself in a foreign prison facing charges you don’t quite understand.

Yes, you most likely are living a very interesting life, but you might want to consider changing some of your behavior. For example, if you must swallow condoms filled with a foreign substance, how about Jell-O?

You should also know that getting paid to do what you love is not a birthright. Sometimes it’s nice to just have things you love to do. To that end, not all of you should necessarily follow your dreams — for example, if your dreams are ridiculous. That’s what hobbies are for.

You may not be able to become a billionaire by age 30, but you certainly can collect coins. Or, if you lack even the motivation for that, what about buying a coffee table book about coin collecting? Surely you can do that. My point is, get a coffee table.

Graduating students, you are on the wrong track in life if you ever find yourself screaming the words, “Go Wolverines!” And you are definitely on the wrong track in life if your nickname is “The Widow Maker.”

Now that’s just about everything you need to know about the wrong track, but in the spirit of affirmation that is commencement, it is equally if not more important for you to know how to tell if you are on the right track. This is comparatively very simple.

You are on the right track in life if you are unaware of the time going by. That is all. If you look up from your evening’s reverie and find the sun lifting up over the horizon or you turn around to discover you are 80 years old and asking, “Where did the time go?” chances are it was not time wasted.

I have never been able to answer the question “Where do I see myself in five years?” Because I don’t. I see myself now, like you — excited, a little anxious, wondering if I will be able to do all that I want in this world, ready to try, ready to fail, ready to live.

Congratulations.

Ben Karlin received a bachelor of arts degree from UW-Madison in 1993. In 1995 he became editor of The Onion, and a year later he moved to Hollywood, where he contributed to such projects as the animated film “Ice Age” and the Cartoon Network’s “Space Ghost Coast to Coast.” In 1999 he was appointed head writer of “The Daily Show With Jon Stewart.” As of Dec. 17, 2006, he was still serving as executive producer of “The Daily Show” and the “The Colbert Report.” He has been the recipient of an Emmy Award for outstanding writing and a Peabody Award for excellence in broadcasting.