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Here’s to 16 more

Yesterday’s party was moved at the last minute to next Tuesday, so it actually hasn’t occurred yet. But tonight I go to my sister’s friend’s 16th birthday party. And no, this isn’t just any birthday party. It’s what they call a “Sweet Sixteen,” the closest thing to a coming-of-age ritual in our coming-of-age-ritualless society. I don’t understand it, though. Sure, the age has been immortalized in a few classic songs (“Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen,” “Sixteen Candles,” “You’re Sixteen”) and doughnuts (Sweet 16 is or was a brand of small powdered doughnuts that come in bags of 16), but that doesn’t mean squat.

And since this is all fancy (because after all, she’ll never have her age mentioned in so many songs again) formal dress is required. I could understand if she was 21, 50, or dead, but other than that, I wouldn’t wear a tie to anyone’s party. Not their six-friggin-teenth. It doesn’t make sense. The idea of this party is so boring that even though my whole family was invited something like a month ago, I kept forgetting about it and would only think about it when other people were talking about it. That’s how fun I’ve thought it will be. But if I get to dance with her sister tonight, it’ll be okay. And I hope they have those little powdered doughnuts.

(As my sister would say, I’m crass. I’d add that I’m being caustic and scathing. But I’m kinda tired from lazing around all day. I’m sure the party will be great.)

Reading this blog about living frugally (that is, cheaply), I’ve gotten onto a kick about using public transportation, particularly that big road blocker, the bus. Now it’s always been implied to me that only homeless people, old people, and black people ride the bus, and that I should stay away from it because all they’ll do is mug me. But I don’t buy into that. (No single person is responsible for giving me this idea, which isn’t even a strong one in my mind, in fact.)

I’ve been told that the bus can be a good way to get around if you don’t have (or don’t want) a car. But I’ve also been taught to believe that you need a car. And at times I’ve even wanted a car. But it’s not as important to me now. Cars cost a lot of money. Besides having to pay for the smoke spewer itself, you have to pay for insurance, gas, and maintenance. That can add up to a lot when you’re living alone like I probably will. How are you going to afford stuff like rent, groceries, cable, and Internet access?

Okay, maybe I don’t need cable, but still, the bus is your ticket to the neighborhood. Over the past few days I’ve actually noticed bus stops as I’ve passed by them. The streets are littered with them. There’s at least one on just about every block on each side of the road. You might as well take advantage of bus service because you’re paying for the bulk of it with taxes anyway, and you’ll get a hard time if you don’t pay those.

For those longer trips you could always hitch a train or maybe a Greyhound bus. Or you could fly. Or just not travel at all!

But seriously, I don’t think I’d want or need a car, and taking advantage of public transportation would be a good idea. Motor vehicles pollute, but there’s an empty spot on a bus with my name on it. And for shorter trips I could always ride a bike and get some exercise.

Of course, all of what I’ve just said will be bunk once I get pressured into earning my driver’s license.

Oh heck, I’ll just get one of those state-issued ID cards that looks like a driver’s license but isn’t. After all, I’m getting older, and I do find myself needing some proof of existence.

The McCulloch Effect! It’s some sort of optical illusion thingy with weird scientific properties or powers. Try it out.