The 26th Parallel

I turn 26 today. Sociologists say I am just about the right age to move out of my parents’ house and get a job. I say sociologists need to get out more. I am 5 years into a fruitful career already and haven’t lived with my parents for quite a bit.

So what comes with the passing of another year? With 16 came the license. With 18, the right to vote and enlist in our nation’s armed forces. With 21 the right to drink and, for those of us who don’t drink, the right to get into places whose primary purpose is to sell drink to those who do. Even 25 had a sort of implied maturity that was supposed to be attached. Like, if one is 24 and being an ass one is young and wild; Once 25 hits, however, one is just an ass.

I am one of only 2 employees at the company for which I work that hadn’t had a kid, a house or both at 25. In fact, my mother HAD ME when she was 25. Though this is not disturbing to me, it is a sort of call to action. I suppose I can fall back on the sociologists and their arrested adulthood theory but doing so won’t make me younger or get me a house.

As a sort of birthday resolution, I have decided to disallow myself certain actions or items and disperse the procurement of said items or the enactment of said actions along a hypothetical calendar of the coming years.

I turn 26 today. Due to the above arbitrary allotment, I decree that I am now allowed to quote movie lines in response to questions for which I have no answer. This does not apply only to me – if you are 26 or older you get to do this now too. No way am I keeping this shit local.

Q: Why haven’t you turned your time sheets in for the last 2 weeks?
A: Your mom goes to college.