RECENTLY, the Vermont State Legislature voted to raise the drinking age to 21, thus making New England entirely dry to those of us under that age. When I heard this news I recalled a strange occurrence that took place some time ago.

I was sitting around with my friends, and we were bored. It was a Saturday night, and we had nothing to do. "Hey, you guys," Charlie suddenly said. "We can legally drink, and we can also drive. Let's go on a killing spree!"

A killing spree--yes, that was it. I suddenly realized what had been missing from my life these past few months. Ever since I had turned 18, I had been moody and depressed. My thoughts turned back to my talk with my guidance counselor. "What do you want to be?" she had asked. "A doctor? A stockbroker?" But I couldn't put my finger on it. "I don't know," I had said. "I think I'd like to work mostly at night, something that involves a great deal or irresponsibility..."

Finally, I realized what I had been grasping for: I wanted to wreak havoc on the federal highway system!

"This is great, you guys." I shouted as we ran out to the car. "Not only can we jeopardize the well-being of the mobile citizenry, but we can actually raise the insurance premiums of motorists who have nothing to do with whatever destruction we may cause! In short, we may abuse the privileges granted us by the state simply by virtue of our youthful irresponsibility."

Charlie suddenly seemed to become reticent. "But what will happen to us in the unlikely event that we should live to be 21? Won't we become responsible drinkers and refuse to drive under the influence?"

I smiled knowingly. "I don't think we'll have to worry about seeing our twenty-first birthday, Charlie Old Man. Just wait 'til I take you the wrong way up an off-ramp."

Just at that moment, as I was preparing to open the car door, the Federal Government appeared in a cloud of smoke. "Not so fast, young voter." It said. "I'm onto your game. And in the name of justice and lower insurance rates. I'm going to be forced to stop you, by preventing you from buying alcohol legally."

"Aw, shucks," cried Charlie, "but buying illegally just isn't as much fun as buying legally."

"Wait!' I interrupted. "The Federal Government doesn't have the right to determine the legal drinking age. You can't stop us!"

"Oh no?" the Government snickered. "I don't have the right, but I do have the money, don't I? I bought the national speed limit, and I'll buy a national drinking age too."

Although we were disappointed, we could see that the Federal Government was right. Only older people, like Congressmen and mothers, have enough sense to know that highway bloodbaths aren't a good thing. We ought to be grateful. "Thank you, Federal Government!" we cried, cheering up. "You've saved us from our statistical predisposition to roadside mortality!"