We all live in a world that was shaped when we were teenagers. We endlessly harp about camp and color war. And — admit it — we’d love to be back in a yeshivah dorm, in those uncomplicated days before shidduchim.

Back when our biggest dilemma was how to fry schnitzel in a kettle without burning the dirah down.

But just because you remember how it was to be a bochur, it doesn’t mean that you get today’s bochurim.

They’re different. Their world is one of incredible pressure — the lachatz that comes from financial pressure, peer pressure. They have standards to keep up that we didn’t.

We had to choose between leben and Badi yogurts. Now, makolets next to the Mir and Brisk stock ten types of bourbon.

The bochurim of today (yes, a cliché, but l’maiseh there’s no other word) face a world of endless options, but no real choices.

And davka because of this, Purim is their escape. It’s their time to shine. To show what makes them special.

Today’s bochur stands out for penimiyus. He’s not interested in putting on a show. (Agav, I think that’s why the skinny-small-short look has become popular. Skinny suits, short pants, tiny hat — it’s an expression of something deeper. Of minimalism.)

On Purim, that penimiyus is set free. Everything comes out, and it’s authentic. It’s what the Eibeshter actually wants.

There’s nothing more real than a bochur getting high, and coming out with his song and his shtickel Torah.

Yes, no one wants to hear his ravings about Reb Chaim. No one wants his wannabe-yeshivish, Harry version of #ThankYouHashem.

But if you roll your eyes, run around after him with a cleaning cloth or throw $20 his way just to clear him out and stop the embarrassment at your curated seudah, then you’ve destroyed him.

A Related He’arah.

I might have mentioned before that my grandfather Reb Chatzkel Besser was once sitting with George W. Bush. When the president challenged him to prove the modern relevance of the Talmudic volume that he was holding, he pointed to a Tu B’Shevat reference on the day’s daf that talked about trees and bushes.

Turns out that my zeide had an unforgettable encounter with George Bush Sr. as well.

The 41st president (having interviewed the 45th and 47th president back in the day, I know my presidential numbers) met my grandfather when both were visiting Poland for the commemoration of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising.

Sitting between them was the former national security advisor, Zbigniew Brzezinski, who was Polish.

“Rabbi,” said Brzezinski, “back in Warsaw where I was raised, my next-door neighbor was a Talmudic student, and I always wondered what was in his textbooks. Can you explain what’s in that Hebrew volume that you’re studying?”

“This is the Torah with Rashi’s commentary. It contains profound wisdom that’s relevant for today,” said Reb Chatzkel. “I’ll share with you one thought — a direct mention of the president’s name from this week’s reading.”

Bush and Brzezinski exchanged skeptical glances, but my grandfather continued.

“In this week’s reading from the book of Leviticus, Moses rebukes others for their wrong implementation of the sacrificial laws. But when his brother Aaron explains the law, the verse reads: ‘And Moses heard and was pleased.’ Rashi, the great 11th-century French commentator, explains that ‘Moses admitted that he didn’t know — and he wasn’t embarrassed.’

“The Hebrew word used is ‘bosh,’ ” Reb Chatzkel concluded, “which is closely linked to your name, President Bush.”

Not to be ashamed, to be authentic, is what my zeide taught. It’s what Kotzk lived.

The Kotzker emphasized that Hashem doesn’t want malachim. He wants “Anshei Kodesh — heilige menschen.” Down to earth. Real.

Believe me, there’s nothing more authentic than being today’s bochur on Purim.

It takes real guts to be a bochur today.

So, here’s a piece of advice. If a bochur throws up all over your new carpet, just stomach it. You and your wife should take a deep breath and hold your noses.

Because throwing up? For today’s bochur, that’s the deepest possible expression of his pnim.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1101)