Saturday, September 29, 2012

Mandated Milestones

One week ago, I celebrated my eighteenth birthday. Thanks to that auspicious occasion, I can now make decisions about the health of my lungs, how to dispense of my money, and where to live. Because I am, apparently (at least according to the government) officially capable of making the most responsible decision about each of these subjects.

For instance, I can now be depended upon to not take money out of my bank account and fritter it away on drugs or sex or other irresponsible forms of entertainment. This is evident by the fact that I am now able to have my own, independent bank account, and able to draw money out of it whenever I want to, without my mother co-signing the withdrawal slip. Forget the fact that it caused my mother no end of inconvenience to take me to the bank every time I needed money, or that I couldn't withdraw money on the 21rst, but was suddenly able to on the 22nd...all of that. I am now responsible enough to make the best decision for myself.

Oh, and I can buy cigarettes now or something. Not sure why I'd want to. But I can. So go me.

I suppose the whole point of this is that arbitrary age-limits for certain aspects of life are sort of ridiculous. Because there is nothing fundamental that changes in a person's moral makeup or their thought processes when they reach a certain birthday. But the government must be seen to be doing something about certain behaviors (since God forbid people be allowed to exercise good judgement, or even poor judgement, and make a hash of it), so in the process they simply remove the ability to make choices at all.

O, Nanny State. Your ridiculousness will never cease to be amusing.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Happy Birthday, you responsible adult, you.

Kyla Denae said...

Why, thank you.

Unknown said...

I was at about the same point when I turned 18 a while back, so I know where you're coming from. Good post, and happy birthday, belated of course.