Requiem for a Thought

Why is it that when we are young, life seems so ephemeral? There is sense of immediacy, an idea that thing must be done fast or at least soon or else…something. But what is that something? What will happen if we don’t move faster? I’m about to mention a name that will, more likely than not, never be mentioned again on this post: Brittany Spears. (Please, don’t discount the post rest of the post.) But as I sit here watching an old episode of “Friends,” during a commercial break there was an advertisement for the television premier of “Crossroads.” She says, at one point, “All we have is right now…and right now we have each other.” Cheesy, of course. But that line, at least the first part, I think, grabs young people. “All we have is right now…” Yet young people—those old enough to have a developed immune system—are the most likely population to live. Whether we’re 12 or 30, we statistically more likely to be healthy and not have just “now” but a good many tomorrows—years in fact.

This immediacy is also present in more reputable movies like “Garden State.” Although more existential, Natalie Portman’s character wants to be a person who does one original thing. She reasons, that no matter what else happens, she’ll be the only person to have ever done (insert some crazy act)—an original moment. Yet, given that she has so many years left to live (statistically, of course), what’s the rush to originality? Why does it have to be now, right then? I suppose you could say that its part of a culture that is used to everything quickly (fast food, microwaves, cars, etc.) But I think there is more to it.