\u201cI need to see some proof of age!\u201d It\u2019s a request we\u2019ve all been confronted with. It starts when your parents enroll you in school. You have to prove you\u2019re five. My mother and father, like most parents, couldn\u2019t wait to whip out my birth certificate. It was a ticket to peace and quiet, if only for a few hours a day.<\/p>\n
I was 12 the next time I needed to prove my age, to get a paper route and to be allowed to ride the roller coaster at Palisades Park in New Jersey. Then came the most important one of my young life, turning sixteen and getting a driver\u2019s license. I waited four long years for this milestone, driving the family car back and forth in the driveway every chance I got. And, around the block when no one was looking. The birth certificate came out again two years later.<\/p>\n
This time to prove I was old enough to buy a quart of beer, to drive at night, and to register for the draft. There was only one milestone left, or so I thought at the time, turning 21 and registering to vote. Now, it\u2019s been switched; you\u2019re considered mature enough to vote and fight for your country at 18 but not mature enough to drink alcohol responsibly. I\u2019m not sure of the logic in switching the voting age and the drinking age but I\u2019m convinced it hasn\u2019t worked. The number of teenagers that sneak a beer or two hasn\u2019t changed. Tell a teenager he or she can\u2019t do something, especially if you \u201cforbid\u201d it, and they\u2019ll do it with more enthusiasm than if you said it was okay. I don\u2019t know why we forget this when we become adults and try to \u201cfix\u201d everything with new laws.<\/p>\n
This \u201cproof of age process\u201d doesn\u2019t kick in again for about forty years. Senior discounts! At first you have to ask for them. And, sometimes prove your age. That\u2019s when you hear, \u201cGosh, you sure don\u2019t look that old!\u201d You believe it, just like your mother believed it when she pushed you around the neighborhood in a stroller and a neighbor said, \u201cOh, what a cute baby.\u201d But, soon enough, you no longer have to ask for the discount and the \u201cGosh you don\u2019t look it,\u201d comes to an end.<\/p>\n
You no longer have to prove anything. Or, so I thought. Then, a few weeks back, I had to show my license to buy some beer for a New Years Day party. I didn\u2019t mind, but I did think it was kind of stupid for a business to adopt a \u201cone hundred percent, ask for proof\u201d policy. But, that\u2019s what it\u2019s come down to. We\u2019re so afraid of making a mistake and facing the consequences enacted by the geniuses in Albany and Washington that we ask old guys like me to dig out their ID\u2019s to prove they\u2019re over 21. A five year old could tell that!<\/p>\n
My big fear, and I know it\u2019s coming, is that I\u2019ll start being asked for proof of age all over again: at coffee shops, so they can inform me that people my age cannot buy a small coffee and occupy a booth for over 15 minutes \u2013 at the entrance to the roller coaster I wasn\u2019t allowed to ride when I was too young and now, it will be because I\u2019m too old – at the DMV, so they can reduce my privilege to drive to that of a junior license holder (no more driving at night and no road trips with a car full of old coots). When I complain about this, I\u2019ll get the same answer I get when I complain to the doctor about my latest physical limitation. \u201cYou have to expect that at your age!\u201d I wish I had a younger brother so I could \u201cborrow\u201d his ID and lie about my age. With proof! Another example of history repeating itself.<\/p>\n
Complaints, comments can be left at mlessler7@gmail.com.<\/i><\/p>\n