Lately, the news has been full of stories about the truly horrible things that happen to people when they're drinking. Last week, it was a young man who killed someone. This was a man my mom knows well, and one you'd never expect to do something like this. The only fact pattern that fits with what happened is that he was so drunk, he didn't know where he was, and after breaking into what he thought was his friend's apartment, startled the resident and attacked him, thinking him an intruder.

The latest is a young man who was found passed out outside in the early morning hours. If you know anything about the midwest in February, you know it's cold, but there have been cold advisories out due to the the -30 windchill at night. The kid has lost fingers and toes. One of my co-workers knows someone who knows the kid, and the untold story is that he lost more than fingers and toes, because he had pulled down his pants to take a piss, and that's when he passed out.

Now I can't say I've never gone out drinking to excess. I understand the appeal; I remember the appeal. I just wish there was a way to give kids the benefit of experience without exposing them to so much of the risks. The first time I lost memory of a portion of the night before, it scared me so much I figured out quickly what my limit was and I stuck to it. I realize now how very lucky I was that nothing bad happened to me. I'm older, and wiser, and I have absolutely no desire to drink more than two beers in one sitting. But I'm not sure I would have learned that if I hadn't experienced it.

I don't know what the answer is, but I know the popular "solutions" won't solve the problem. Alternative activities, limiting bar access to 21 and over, awareness campaigns...none of it will work unless the individual drinker decides for themselves to stick to their limits. In the meantime, I can only read the newspaper and grieve for lives forever ruined because they haven't learned when to stop.