Somehow it seems fitting to turn 30 in Canberra. It's not the town one would choose to turn 18 or 21 in. Such occasions mark a triumphant assertion of adulthood which only makes sense when one takes youth for granted. They are about fun, full undeniable fun. They require cities dedicated to pleasure, or at least where one can get properly intoxicated, drive down freeways absolutely ripped and lose oneself in a vibrant crowd. But 30 is to 21 what superannuation is to any notion of anarchy.
Recommended CitationCottier, Penelope, Moveable Feast: Thirtynothing, Australian Left Review, 1(143), 1992, 6-6.