What a difference a year makes.
Exactly one year ago yesterday, the very first The Long and Short of It debuted in this, the finest collegiate news publication in the history of collegiate news publications... or, if you prefer shorthand, The Daily Cardinal.
Titled \Thirsting for a real birthday party,"" my initial features column offering dealt with two pressing issues very close to my heart-my birthday and the legal drinking age in the United States of America.
Preceding my 20th birthday by one day, the column expounded on the nationalized travesty known as Federal State Highway Funding, the main impetus behind the maladjusted ""No Fun 'Till 21"" law, and how said legislation adversely affects usually-responsible adults like myself on their 19th and 20th birthdays.
What a difference a year makes.
On Friday, Sept. 10, 2004, your favorite daring college journalist will be 21-legally able to marry, pay taxes, own property (except in Missouri), die for my country, and now, finally, able to lawfully enjoy a whiskey sour with a cute 15-year-old at the KK on a Thursday night.
Analogous to our favorite 42nd president's denial of sexual relations with ""that woman,"" I have never A) consumed alcohol underage, B) consumed an alcoholic beverage underage at a licensed bar/tavern or C) consumed an alcoholic beverage underage with a cute 15-year-old at the KK on a Thursday night (she said she was 32).
What a difference a year makes.
At midnight tomorrow, the planets will align and the celestial heavens will ring with joyous song as we earthly mortals cry out, ""Bottom's up!"" just before the very first legal adult beverage caresses my parched lips, quenched at last after 21 years of disrespect at the hands of Congress and their prohibitionist forbearers.
However, Thursday midnight will be but an introduction-the opening act, the pre-game, the teaser trailer-for Friday, perhaps the greatest day of the week for a 21st birthday.
When I was a young boy, more transfixed by G.I. Joe than Jack Daniel's, I always hoped that my birthday would fall on a school day early in the week so as to reap the pleasing benefits of classroom birthday attention and rub it in all the other kids' faces.
Yet now, as the halcyon days of Saturday morning cartoons have been more or less supplanted by Saturday morning over-hangs, the choice days of the week on which to celebrate a birthday invariably fall on the weekend, so as to maximize the party potential whilst placing academics, jobs and child support out of harm's way, if only for 48 hours.
Although I've been blessed with the preferred day of the week for a 21st birthday, a pressing question remains: How do I go about celebrating my new-found privilege? Do I blaze my own path of birthday-night strategic glory or do I attempt to emulate the most famous of 21st birthday celebrations, such as Ms. Hilton's five-city, multi-time zone extravaganza?
Because my intended budget for the night is approximately zero dollars, I'll likely forget the jet travel and elect to stay in Madison. Rest assured that however Friday night and my birthday are celebrated, an enjoyable time will be had by all.
I'll be sure to keep this in mind as the Wild Turkey and Jaeger-bombs begin to flow: Though the key to life is moderation, if you don't go overboard every once in awhile, you'd never know.
writePNL@yahoo.com.
