James Taranto and the Best of the Web:

John Kerry has been on a tour of college campuses in the Northeastern U.S., and the New York Times reports on an odd comment he made yesterday at the University of Rhode Island:

"There are so many young people now who take time out of college to actually go give back to their community locally, but they don't want to be involved in national politics," he added, "because they don't think they're going to get the same reward that they will get just working quietly, locally, and doing something you can measure, and actually get something done.

"I think that's a tragedy for our country."

Mr. Kerry has been giving speeches like this his whole life.

So let's see if we have this straight: Large numbers of young people are doing volunteer work in their communities, doing "something you can measure" and "actually getting something done"--and Kerry sees this as "a tragedy for our country"?

Taranto thinks Kerry's remark is bizarre - or perhaps, like me, sadly illustrative of a Sixties standard-bearer. Foremost, the Democratic presidential candidate is exactly wrong about the health of many local communities. One of the Baby Boomers' legacies has been a dearth of volunteerism over the past decades - particularly, I've observed, among the ages of thirty to forty-five. All the associations to which I belong are at their nadirs of size and activity, their memberships disproportionately grey.

I make an analogy to foodstuffs: Imagine you have a near-empty gallon-jug of ice cream. If someone asked, you can confidently reply that you have ice cream in the house. But if six friends popped over and wanted ice cream, you'd either serve only a couple or dish out a half-scoop to each. The old ice cream just couldn't go as far as it did when you brought it into the house. And so it goes with the community. It's simple physics and legality that new residents can only move into a city where vacancy is available. If a city is numerically well-populated but is highly represented by the elderly, who can't get out as much as they used to, its volunteer works are left paralyzed by a large demographic that is, in a sense, ethereal: living next door but no longer attending meetings, festivals or helping at church. There, but not there. Only when they pass on can people possibly return to clubs, commissions and pews.

This phenomenon contributes - but only partially, I'm afraid. While the surrounding district is decidedly aged itself, my city is populated by all ages - and young families or singles, who will inevitably replace the elderly, appear to be on the rise. Disconnection from all but one's immediate friends and neighbors is an unfortunate element of urbanization but my city is decidedly suburban. Build-out mercifully prevents us from sprawl.

What we contend with is a decline in participation, as citizens have been led to believe that community involvement is no longer a living necessity nor a social more. Whether the cause is a shift of the public's expectation of all services to come from government rather than the local, private community, brought on by the ill-fated socialism of the Great Society; or simply a devolution of counterculture cynicism, the empty reward of raising young people with expectations of self-centered work and success without residence or commitment; is open to debate.

To be fair, especially to my friend OX, who simply could not pursue a career (or be insulted by Oprah Winfrey at Oscar parties) living far outside of Los Angeles, many younger professionals must relocate to the big cities. But far too many college graduates run for the nearest coastal skyline without a clear strategy or even immediate job prospects. They mistake the size of urbanity for an abundance of opportunity while at the same time designating their smaller hometown - no matter how full of potential - as a blastpad to be left hundreds of miles behind them, never forgotten but never returned to, either. The allure of tending the world's fulcrum keeps many away from the quiet of flyover country. While I confess to much more intellectual interest in grander, world-scale issues, my time is well spent in the places and with the people of the city around me. Needless to say, I don't meet many others my age.

I exchanged e-mails with National Review contributor Stanley Kurtz on the powerful essay by Joseph Epstein entitled "The Perpetual Adolescent." He recommended a book by Alan Ehrenhalt, The Lost City. Mindful of my surroundings today and the future of my country, I'll be picking that up soon. For those of you between eighteen and thirty reading this: for goodness' sake, sign up!