Back in my college freshman days, I was all about music. I played guitar, joined the campus band, and sought out live shows whenever I could. However, being underage meant I had to sneak into venues or figure out creative ways to catch guitarists perform. A fake ID was a necessity.
That summer, I went on a mission to get a legitimate Oregon ID that could pass for someone 21. I mean, it wasn’t your average fake—this was an authentic ID. Technically, I might’ve crossed some legal lines to get it.
In the following two years, I attended a ton of concerts. For me, that access to live music was worth the risk.
Reflecting on the Past
Now, when I think back, I’m a bit surprised by my boldness. I didn’t just misrepresent myself; I lied directly to the DMV.
I believe this all happened in the 1980s, which makes it trickier to verify. Still, I wonder…what if I had been caught and faced a judge? How would I have defended myself?
I would likely have just been honest: I was in a band and wanted to learn from others. Music was my passion; the alcohol wasn’t the draw for me.
And what would the judge have thought?
Perhaps he saw me as that typical college kid, not a felon. He was probably around my parents’ age, likely a white male, with kids who might have shared my interests.
Maybe he reflected on his youth, remembering sneaking into an R-rated movie or a local show.
Had I shown respect and some remorse, I might have received leniency. A slap on the wrist—maybe just probation or community service. After all, I hadn’t harmed anyone.
Considering Today
But here’s a thought: what if this scenario played out today? Imagine being a college student in 2025, lying to the DMV, and then getting caught.
Judges could be men or women, and their backgrounds might influence their perspectives.
What if the judge weren’t white? Would there be a thought that I was benefiting from “white privilege”? Media narratives often stress the unfair advantages some have.
Also, if I were a man heavily pursuing guitar, a female judge might feel uneasy about that. Sometimes, those active pursuits have made women feel uncomfortable and unwelcome—as has been evident historically.
Crimes like this seem more severe now. Society places great emphasis on verifying identities.
No, come 2025, state officials might not view you as a friend. They might see you as a threat instead. The concept of “boys will be boys”? Out the window.
Reflections on Love
It feels odd to think of the government as being capable of “loving” its citizens.
Yet, when I was 16 and filled out my first tax return from my after-school job, I felt a kind of love from those contributing their taxes. I didn’t mind paying them. I understood the idea behind it all. We help fund infrastructure, teachers, and emergency services. They’re out there trying to care for us.
Back then, Oregon’s state taxes were low. When I mailed in my form, I imagined it reaching a small office nestled in nature.
I pictured state employees as park rangers or the friendly faces in the office of a barely populated state.
If I received anything from the state, it was likely just a notice for deer hunting season.
My taxes even supported brave Coast Guard rescues and local sheriffs who might not judge too harshly if they stumbled upon a high school party—they probably attended some themselves back in the day.
I felt an attachment to the government because they looked out for me. Did they not help build parks and send people to the moon? Issue fun stamps? From my viewpoint, their concern for my safety felt genuine.
This sense of an overarching unity resonated with me—aren’t we one nation, together?
The Feelings of the Younger Generation
What do the younger folks think today? Do they sense that the country cares for them? I’m a bit skeptical. But then again, I’m not 16 anymore.
Part of what convinces people of love is consistency. If laws are enforced evenly, it shows everyone their value.
Recently, I noticed cars in Portland driving around without license plates. Isn’t that odd? Shouldn’t there be rules about that?
It’s a little thing, but I see it all the time. A car zipping by without any plates. Wouldn’t the police pull them over?
But they don’t. Cuts to police staff and their limitations have led to a crime rise, freeing them from stopping drivers for missing plates.
If you happen to collide with one of these vehicles, good luck getting any information—more helplessness, right? That leaves people feeling insecure and uncared for.
Visiting Japan
On a recent trip to Tokyo, I was struck by Japan’s complex culture and language. Their society had a certain mysterious charm.
Still, one thing was palpable: their government seemed to love them. You could sense it in the atmosphere.
Sure, they face their own challenges—politics and corruption exist everywhere. Yet, it felt apparent that love permeated their society.
They provided jobs for the elderly, enhancing their sense of purpose. The public transit and infrastructure were designed to ease the burdens of daily life.
People were willing to lend a hand to one another. There was respect for personal property, and the sense of kindness was evident.
It felt like a genuine connection: their country embraced them, and that made them want to foster love amongst each other.
It’s a strange notion to ponder, but wouldn’t it be nice to feel cherished by your own country? What a comforting thought that would be.
