A viewpoint from a 26 year old, currently learning the art of realism, and slowly understanding (but still not quite believing) that I am not, in fact, invincible.
An anecdote if you will; I remember, at the lofty age of 18, playing basketball with my friends late on night and drinking a bubba-keg per 2 players. I then decided I was capable of driving from Coquitlam to Point Grey to see a girl (45 minutes through Vancouver). After I couldn't find her house, slalomed some traffic cones down Marine Drive, and found myself behind a car parked in the middle of the road on Front St. under the Patullo bridge, I then decided it was a good idea to engage in conversation with the gentleman who had blocked the road, and not quite polite conversation. Three older, much bigger, and much meaner men chased me with a tire iron, peppered my car with chunks of rock from the train tracks, and I sped off up the road. Ahah! I would get them... I pulled off Columbia, grabbed two handy chunks of ashphalt, and hunkered down behind my VW waiting to smash their windshield when they drove by. And waited. And waited. And cooled off, got back in my Golf, forgot I had turned the wheel one full rotation to the left - an ingenious tactic I had devised to allow for rapid getaway from the horribly severe beating that would no doubt have occured, including possibly death - turned the wheel further to left, slipped my foot off the clutch as I jerked and reacted to the car going much further left than I anticipated, got the Stan Smith Adidas sneaker on my right foot jammed under the plastic console beside the driver's foot-box, and so, at five km per hour, chugging along in 1st, almost stalling, made a full 270 degree turn across 4 lanes of traffic and off a 20 foot embankment to the train tracks below.
Clearly, alot of this situation had to do with me being an out of control idiot in my youth, heavy drinking, and hormones. But there were many times following this that situations arose where I still made bone-headed choices, believing I was competent and capable of making those decisions on my own, and things turned out hairy. God loves assholes, however, and so I am still here, and still make bone-headed decisions frquently enough, but less and less of them every year, it must be noted, and none even remotely approaching the level of retardedness of that night.
My convoluted ramblings are attempting to get at this, Marc; we all believe we are competent, capable, and aware of all the risks. But we're not. And until the shit does hit the fan, and repeatedly, we can never be aware of how truly unprepared we are.
There is a reason the age limit to drive is 16, vote 18, and drink 19 or 21 depending no your neighbourhood - even though you may believe you are competent to assume responsibility, the world of adults, of which I still have only my junior membership, knows otherwise. The ability to write a coherent, persuasive argument does not change that.
Believe me, I am currently at work at a psychiatric group home, helping clients leran the skills to allow them to reintegrate into society, but two nights ago I was slamming fireball and shotgunning Luckys at 4:30 am (randomly enough with the same guys who had goaded me into "going to get the girl" that fateful night, after having not seen them in over 4 years), and found myself at Whistler after 1 hour sleep, hucking my carcass off an enormous cliff simply because I heard a friend yell my name from the chair. I wasn't sure where I was, but popped anyway as there was an audience, went way huger than expected, and spent yesterday evening at work hungover, with my legs elevated and bruised, popping pain pills.
Today, I again believe I am a competent, capable adult.
Choada_Boy, though perhaps not making the best use of presentation skills, has a valid point in that, from a pure science standpoint, your brain is truly not completely developed, and your hormones are unbalanced.
The law recognizes that though you may be an excellent climber, an exceptionally mature individual, and a responsible person, you are still not legally responsible for your actions.
Now go get wasted, tap some underage ass, get caught trespassing while skinny-dipping in the outdoor pool, sneak into the strip club, shoplift some booze and rolling papers, pop in some old school Offspring into that stolen Civiv and heed there wonderful jewels of wisdom:
"If you're under 18 you won't be doing any time, he-e-ey, come out and play!"
*sniff* that was beautiful advice. I think I may print it for my children.
p.s. it is true god does love ass holes.
