Abu Muqawama: Post

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You Can Die for Your Country But Don't Drink in My Bar

Kip has watched recently the emerging debate over whether the 21-Year-Old drinking age in the USA causes binge drinking on college campuses with interest.

A report in the NY Times reports that two college presidents dropped their names from a petition after the MADD mafia began to shout (and several more added to the list).

Kip remembers vividly when Governor Corzine of New Jersey said a couple of years ago that he would support lowering the drinking age to 18 as men and women were dying in Afghanistan and Iraq at that age--and then reversed position faster than a "Time Line" transforms into a "Horizon."

Kip could frankly give a damn whether or not college students are allowed to drink. But he thinks it remains fundamentally unfair that soldiers can die in a war for their country, but their countrymen can't buy them a drink. It's too bad that our Congress will allow MADD to run roughshod over our ability to treat these soldiers as adults; it will entrust our servicemen and women to decide life or death at the tip of the spear but not allow them to have a drink responsibly when they come home. Furthermore, Kip is sure that the drinking age contributes to a whole host of problems in the military from preventing those who need substance abuse counseling from going to get it because of fear of punishment for underage imbibing to leading to non-reporting of sexual abuse for fear of punishment for illicit drinking.

Kips not even asking for a wholesale change in drinking laws, just an addition that says 21 unless you present a valid military ID.

But then my namesake said it much better than I:

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
Nation at War, drinking age

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