And they’re not baby goats, either!
Irradiated by Stingray
Recently while channel surfing, the idiot-box landed on G4 briefly. They were showing commercials for a new program called “Campus PD“. Ok, no big whoop. Yet another installment of bad televison filmed by drunken otters while almost certainly over-enthusiastic cops go about their business in manners I strongly suspect some of our friends would not entirely approve of. Only this time it’ll be with drunk college students, so there’ll be a really high probability of flashing and other nudity, and nobody likes entitled college punks anyway! Woohoo, we’re marketing geniuses!
Ok, fine. If it sells ad time, and works for the network, whatever. The part that stopped me in my metaphorical tracks, however, was the sound bite one of the fine officers offered up about the wild and hairy situations that arise. I’m going to paraphrase, because the original made me want to take a pick-axe to my TV in fury, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to jeopardize my computer similarly.
You have to realize, these are just kids. Something could develop any time with excited kids.
No, you simple little fuckwit. No x 1023. They. Are. Not. Fucking. Children. They can vote. Most of them, judging by the rest of the footage in the commercial, can buy alcohol. They can join the military. They. Are. Adults. They may be boorish, irresponsible, borderline-retarded adults, but they are adults. If one of them gets liquored up and plows into a minivan full of kids and nuns, they’re going to Big Boy Prison, not juvie, Officer Sparky.
Unfortunately, Officer Sparky there classifying grown adults as “just kids” is not an isolated attitude. While the legal definitions of adulthood have remained static at 18 and 21 years of age (depending on the activity), the age at which society considers one to actually be an adult seems to be pressing closer to 30. Now I don’t expect every freshly-minted 18-year-old to posses the full gamut of wisdom and experience a middle-aged person, let’s be clear. Experience and wisdom take time to acquire, and often painful lessons, and often times the only way to gain anything is by doing something spectacularly stupid and learning from it. To continue to classify these adults as kids, however, imparts a sense that the spectacularly stupid mistakes don’t count, or aren’t really that severe, and are just products of youthful high spirits. The latter sentiment may be perfectly accurate, but the former gives tacit license to the adults who should be learning from these fuckups to keep on fucking up for longer.
There is absolutely no good reason for this practice. The idiots don’t benefit from it, as they get to continue doing stupid things until they’re “really” adults, whenever that might finally trickle around, and then just start figuring things out when they should have a pretty good working grasp already, and the rest of us don’t benefit from it because fucking idiots are doing stupid things around us, deluded into thinking it’s somehow all right because they’re too young for it to count. Less than a hundred years ago, adolescence stopped sharply around fifteen or sixteen, especially during the Great Depression, when your options were either bust your ass and scrabble to keep you and yours on the right side of the dirt, or get trampled by those who were trying. Fifty to sixty years ago, you finished high school, and then you got right after figuring how to not be a fuckup, glad you got the extra time the depression folks didn’t. Now it’s something of a minor miracle if someone doesn’t move back in with his or her parents after college. I know the expression is “you’re never too old to play” or “always be young at heart,” but at some point it’s a good idea to at least pick a new game, or if keeping a young heart, at least try to get a wise head to go with it, and every Officer Sparky lumping an adult, albeit it a young one, in as “just kids” is doing every last one of us a disservice by dragging this problem out.
Then again, a nation of “children” who vote certainly explains a few things.
December 2nd, 2009 at 6:58 pm
It’s the “boomerang” generation. If I hadn’t sold my nifty sociology text book back to the bookstore, I’d have something other than a vague recollection of a statistic to offer you. Namely something in the neighborhood of 23% of folks in their mid to late twenties move back in with their parents in the U.S. Scary, isn’t it?
December 2nd, 2009 at 7:10 pm
He obviously drank the KoolAid… That is the default when they don’t want to make them take ‘responsiblity’ for their actions… Most Unis will do everything they can to keep from actually having to lock up students, as that impacts the bottom line, especially when doting parents pull their endowments. And yeah, it IS stupid!
December 2nd, 2009 at 7:17 pm
“…often times the only way to gain anything is by doing something spectacularly stupid and learning from it”
I have a PhD in this.
December 2nd, 2009 at 10:12 pm
LOL! Smartdogs!
I moved out of my parents’ home when I was 17, because I was being “stifled”. After about six months on my own, I was all about bring back the stifle! Who knew that electricity and shit had to be paid for?
My hard head kept me from moving back home. I grew up pretty fast. Thanks to a modicum of good sense and a LOT of luck, I have never seen striped sunshine. It wasn’t from lack of trying. I guess I just kept most of my “spectacularly stupid” shit behind closed doors.
December 2nd, 2009 at 11:32 pm
You do something stupid and have to deal with the consequences: you learn not to do it again. (We hope.)
You do something stupid and by sheer blessed fortune evade the consequences: you thank your lucky stars and learn not to do it again.
You do something stupid and are protected from the consequences: you learn that it’s okay to do that, because you’re exempt from the rules.
College is about learning, no?
(And thank goodness for the oak-like patience of my undergraduate institution’s bouncers.)
December 3rd, 2009 at 7:56 am
Funny, I have already started talking about concequences with my 5 year old and She gets it. It’s my opinion that the problem with college age “young adults” these days is the lack of concequences when they WERE kids. Sure, I understand that you have to let kids be kids sometime, and I do, but when she gets out of line she knows that she has to face DAD.
Hopefully, by the time she is in college, she will have a good head on her shoulders and won’t have to make some of the mistakes that I did.
s
December 3rd, 2009 at 9:14 am
Functionally, a lot of these “adults” really are still children. They’ve had no responsibilities, they’ve had no experience, they’ve had no exposure to anything outside the carefully-crafted universes their parents have kept them in.
True story: 1990, and I’m a freshman at Land-Grant State U. In my first three weeks at school, I helped one new acquaintance open a checking account, helped another find a doctor’s office and make an appointment, and helped a couple of others deal with the Bursar’s Office. We’re talking about “adults” who were incapable of making dinner reservations, because they’d never been encouraged nor allowed to take on any of life’s responsibilities, no matter how trifling or banal. I doubt things have gotten any better in the past 20 years.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to be some work-study Kampus Kop whose job it is to help transition these “adults” into a world where they’re actually responsible for their actions. ( “Whatcha gonna do, ossifer? Shoot me with yer walkie-talkie?”)
I can imagine that such messy transition periods would make for entertaining television. Right up there with skateboarders getting their scrotums torn off.
December 3rd, 2009 at 9:40 am
A lot of my cohort moved back in with our parents because rents are higher and entry-level jobs lower-paying and a bachelor’s degree worth less than in earlier times. When I did it, I wasn’t “playing,” I was broke.
That said, anyone old enough to be tried as an adult should have the law enforced like they’re an adult. I can sympathize with being in your early 20s and not knowing what you’re doing with your life, but there’s a difference between being confused and being deliberately irresponsible. Pretty much anything the cops have to get involved with is the latter, and by 16 you should be over that shit.
December 3rd, 2009 at 10:56 am
I can’t blame the young adults. They’re born and bred to not relinquish the comforts of home, or accept responsibility until middle age.
Thirty years ago, most young folks would run like a scalded dog when they had their first chance to leave. When this happened, the plate was broken and adulthood began. At that time, in my state, it was usually around 18, which was the legal age to drink alcohol.
December 3rd, 2009 at 11:20 am
Think it has to do with the bubble-wrap mentality of the parents. ‘ell when I was growing up we never wore helmets, knee pads, and had free reign to do whatever… just be home for dinner. Did we get cuts, broken bones, and the like? Yes, its part of growing up. I understand the desire to protect your offspring, but its taken too far in most cases. You end up rearing a kid who can’t do a damn thing on their own, are too scared to try, or don’t have any common sense. Working at a University, I’m always amazed at the boneheadedness of the students… it’s amazing they’ve managed to live to college age.
December 3rd, 2009 at 12:52 pm
My dad always said that most people aren’t really adults until they’re 30 years old, ‘cuz it takes most of them that long to get it right.
December 3rd, 2009 at 2:50 pm
Actually, in most of Asia, you aren’t considered really an adult until age 35 or so.
You’re still held responsible for your decisions once you move out, but those decisions aren’t trusted by anyone.
December 3rd, 2009 at 6:38 pm
daddyquatro – I left home at 17 too. I still finished high school and – over time – made my own way through college and grad school, but as Jess points out, that was 25-30 years ago when the world was still relatively new and shiny.
Bluntie (as usual) gets it right. Along with a bit of brains and a good work ethic, I had ENORMOUS resources of pure dumb luck. So the “by sheer blessed fortune evade the consequences: you thank your lucky stars and learn not to do it again” part meant that instead of going to jail (or worse) I just became an under-employed dog trainer and blogger.
December 3rd, 2009 at 7:57 pm
I was out of the house at 16 — not because I was immature, but because my mother was, and she couldn’t deal with me (her exact words? “You have to move out because if you don’t, one of us is going to kill the other within 6 months, and I’m not taking bets on who would win.”). I did move back in with her for a few months when I found myself a young widow with a preschooler & a newborn, but only JUST long enough to get back on my feet.
My girls are now 21 & 17, having made it to those ages without pregnancies or trouble with the law. My eldest, despite her wild streak which has led her to become a pierced & tattooed model & writer, is married to a Navy enlisted man who is so awesome it makes me wish I’d had a son. My youngest is so responsible and oriented toward doing the right thing that it wouldn’t surprise me if she wound up as a cop or drill sergeant. Neither of them really “rebelled” all that much because I didn’t sweat the small stuff (green hair? no biggie), and THEY knew they’d be the ones suffering the consequences of their poor choices.
They’re not perfect kids but they’re delightful people, and I believe a large part of the reason is my philosophy that kids DO live up to expectations (so set them realistically but on the high side), and that kids can (and SHOULD) be largely self-sufficient by age 18.
December 3rd, 2009 at 10:24 pm
Jeanne,
You nailed it! Don’t sweat the small stuff. Ground and pound the Big stuff.
And, the funny thing is, the big stuff ain’t so complicated.
1. Be polite; it’s the social lube that makes life so much easier. “Please.” “Excuse me.” “Thank you.” “Yes, Ma’am.” “No, sir”
My kids are hell on wheels at home but I never fail to get complemented by teachers and other parents on how “well behaved” they are. LOL! if they only knew.
2. If it ain’t yours, DON’T FUCK WITH IT! In any way shape or form. Don’t poke it, pet it, throw rocks at it or take it.
That just about covers it.
There are corollaries, “Don’t hit first, but never be hit last” and the like.
I’m a firm believer in narrow constraints and wide boundaries. Come home, do your homework, do your chores, and the rest of the day belongs to you.