TheBanyanTree: The Adolescent Brain or "Alcohol and Drugs Not a Factor?"

[LLDeMerle]

My husband recently heard on the news that the male brain is not 
fully developed until about the age of 25. Our eyes met and locked in 
realization as we simultaneously determined that this was ground zero 
for many of the frustrations involving our teenagers and "start-up 
adults." We just thought they were stupid. Of course, we knew they 
really weren't stupid because of how their teachers have insisted 
that they were capable of work far beyond what they were in fact, 
producing, but how to convince an adolescent that there is actual 
value in something besides World of Warcrack and other electronic 
busy-ness is like trying to pry a dog off of a bone.

With four productions between the 2 of us, we are on our last 15 
year-old and are finally getting the hang of this...more or less. I 
won't say that we haven't considered nailing his bedroom door shut to 
protect the rest of the world from the horror which awaits it, but 
the fact that he has a cell phone and knows the number to 911 has 
been a deterrent. He may not know where that cell phone is and if he 
does stumble across it, it is likely not charged, but...it could happen.

In discussing this juicy bit of AP news, we are now able to account 
for many seemingly thoughtless or downright moronic actions of the 
male young of our society, or, indeed, the world, such as why a car 
full of teenage guys thinks playing chicken with a tractor trailer 
which, then, jackknifes, slamming into a house and relieving it of 
its front porch, is cool. On a more personal level, there is the 
mystery of why one has a car accident and parks the car in the 
driveway without a word, as though nothing had ever happened.

In the same tradition of BOS, or, "Brain On Sabbatical," two 
Goffstown, New Hampshire guys found themselves in a scenario not 
unlike the Keystone Cops, or, for the less sophisticated, "Dumb and 
Dumber," when all they really wanted to do was to go fishing. David, 
20 and Ryan, 22, don't go fishing like the rest of us. They don't 
stand on the shore or in the river in waders, say a Hail Mary and 
throw in their line. No. David and Ryan set their little rubber rafts 
afloat upon the waters of the mighty Merrimack River with all of its 
treacheries. The brothers have made a practice of drifting and 
fishing on the river, not to mention adding sleeping to this 
veritable festival of multi-tasking, which apparently became the main 
catalyst for the crisis, aided by the serious lack of planning in 
neglecting to pack oars and life preservers. Ah, the carefree life! 
Are there enough red flags, here, yet? You know the rest, we've all 
seen it on Popeye: Olive Oil drifts off into blissful dreams of Bluto 
and the Spinach-eater knocking the stuffing out of each other for her 
anorexic hand, only to awaken hours later, in the dark, dismayed to 
discover that the pool toys have been set free by the swift waters of 
the Merrimack and ferried to, surprise! Different points in the river.

One brother awakened near the boat launch at New Hampshire Technical 
College in Concord. He paddled to shore with his hands, deflated his 
floatie and carried it a mile up the road to a store. He found 
himself unable to make even a collect call from the pay phone (note 
to self: sew quarters in bathing suits of the male offspring) and so, 
spying a bench nearby, still armed only with swim trunks, he settled 
down for a midsummer's night nap. Awakening to find that his fairy 
godmother had stood him up and stiffed him on making everything 
deluxe, this brother walked 5 miles to a gas station, where a 
Merrimack County deputy sheriff asked him what he was doing. The 
thought of this makes me giddy. How I'd have loved to have been an 
onlooker, or at the very least, a leech on the kid's leg, but, 
alas...I am halfway through my night's sleep at 2AM, not to mention 
the fact that I no longer live in New Hampshire. I still read the 
paper, though, since it makes me feel ever so superior to, 
well...it's not nice to say.

Relaying his tale of woe, the sheriff suggested that they, are you ready?

LOOK FOR HIS BROTHER.

Imagine, here, a light bulb going on in an obscenely dim place. The 
officer reports that it was, indeed, at this point that quarter-less, 
swim trunks brother considered the possibility that something just 
may have happened to his brother, as in,

  "Wow. Maybe this is not good."

A moment to collect ourselves. On second thought, take ten.

Fire and police departments from Concord and Bow went on a hunt for 
Missing Brother,  while a state police helicopter searched the river 
from above.

Meanwhile, Missing Brother, David, like his quarter-less swim trunks 
brother, a CPR-certified swimming instructor and camp counselor in 
top physical condition (apparently this was necessary to include in 
the Union Leader article) had awakened from his slumber ala Rip Van 
Winkle to find his raft snagged on a tree in Concord. Close to 
hypothermia, he walked to a friend's house, where he was given 
clothes and a flashlight and went to look for his brother. Is it just 
me or does anyone else sense that one brother is more committed to 
the other's welfare than, well, the other? Discovering that his 
brother was not where he last saw him, he decided to spend the night 
at the friend's house. Once at said house, for whatever reason 
(underdeveloped brain?) Missing Brother did not call 911.

Now, I ask you...would you leave your children at camp with these two 
in charge as their counselors? I'm beginning to appreciate the 
concept of checking out counselors' and instructors' mental 
capabilities before unwittingly handing over helpless children to 
their care. How this would be measured is beyond me, but I do think 
we need a standard. Make that an amendment to the Constitution.

Unaware that fire departments from two towns and a state police 
helicopter complete with an infrared detection device had launched a 
massive search for him, Missing Brother finally learned of the effort 
after his friend's mother caught the free-for-all (except the 
taxpayers of New Hampshire) televised on the news. The search was 
ongoing when Quarter-less Swim Trunks Brother's cell phone rang.

"Ryan looks at me, his eyes are as big as saucers and he said, 'You 
ain't gonna believe this,'" Sheriff Eskeland laughed. It was David, 
whom you and I now know as "Missing Brother."

"Hey, bro," MB greeted his older sibling, QSTB.

The sheriff reported that the brothers were delighted that neither 
had perished, although their father told him they would be "a little 
less delighted when they got back home." Somehow, I think the ship 
full of teachable moments for these guys has sailed. No pun intended.

The article concluded with "Alcohol and drugs were not factors in the 
incident."

I understand that this statement is meant to be a comfort, however, 
in truth? It deeply troubles me, more so than I already was. I find 
myself looking suspiciously at young men, wondering what kind of 
hair-brained things are going on, or not, as the case may be, in 
their pre-usable brains. Our youngest son's claims that he is fully 
capable of this or that have lost their impact, especially due to his 
propensity to now lean on the scientific evidence that

"Hey! My brain isn't fully developed. What's your excuse?"