A Bear on Wheels

Newsletter 2019-07-01

I turned thirty-four this week. To be honest, it’s an underwhelming age. It's not like when you turn eighteen and can vote, or when you turn twenty-one and can legally pilot a spacecraft. The fact that that’s the same age when you can legally drink explains why there were so many aborted shuttle launches.

Next year, I'll be old enough to run for president. I think I’ll pass on that one. Even I wouldn’t vote for me. Besides, everyone else in America is already running. If everyone votes for themselves, it will be a 327,000,000-way tie for first place with one vote each, unless I vote for one of them, in which case the winner will have two.

It’s a shame there are no cool age-based privileges that come between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five. To fill that void, I created annual perks for each of those forgotten birthdays. There are at least two and a half state legislators who follow me on Twitter. Time to call in some favors and get these ideas signed into law.

Age 22: You can eat f…