"I bought a pair of pants." What a perfect ending for this story. What else could you say? You needed work, you did the work, you moved on. I remember the era well, James Ron, as if it were yesterday. I think if a bunch of us from the 60s were seated around a table and someone asked "What is the worst thing you've ever done for money, we would ALL of us have a story. You are a hell of a writer, my friend.
Thank you, Sharron. Very much. My world certainly changed during the 60s. And yes, I'd bet we all have done things that put us at odds with ourselves. We've had a lot of time to mess up something. We have skeletons in the closet and toys in the attic. I most appreciate your very kind words!!
What a depressing job it must have been making bombs! They're many monotonous jobs out there, but usually one can at least imagine satisfied customers at the end of the supply chain and keep on doing your part. But not with bombs! No wonder you didn't last more than a day or two.
Hello, Jim! It was indeed monotonous and I couldn't imagine doing it day after day. It was just an unusual situation. Yes, there were no satisfied customers at the end of it. The war machine contractors made out like bandits, I believe. Thank you for writing!
'cause it's 1,2,3 what are we fightin' for? Don't ask me I don't give a a damn...
Those were strange times. Most of us youngsters didn't really even understand what that war was all about but we knew that if it dragged out long enough, we would be next.
Yes, they were, Jim. I believed we weren't getting the whole story, whatever it was. Things haven't changed. My choice was to go to college or get drafted. I lasted 3 years in college, as my band was busy and I wanted it more. This was '67. I was called up early '68 just as the band was breaking up. LOL. Lucky for me I had a bad knee and didn't have to go. This bomb story was in spring, 3 months later.
Me, too! I'm not sure if I've figured things out, or if most of the things that I gave thought to, weren't worth the concern that came with them. Like most of the things we worry about don't come to pass.
"I bought a pair of pants." What a perfect ending for this story. What else could you say? You needed work, you did the work, you moved on. I remember the era well, James Ron, as if it were yesterday. I think if a bunch of us from the 60s were seated around a table and someone asked "What is the worst thing you've ever done for money, we would ALL of us have a story. You are a hell of a writer, my friend.
Thank you, Sharron. Very much. My world certainly changed during the 60s. And yes, I'd bet we all have done things that put us at odds with ourselves. We've had a lot of time to mess up something. We have skeletons in the closet and toys in the attic. I most appreciate your very kind words!!
Ha! Definitely a good wow.
Thank you, Jim! : )
What a depressing job it must have been making bombs! They're many monotonous jobs out there, but usually one can at least imagine satisfied customers at the end of the supply chain and keep on doing your part. But not with bombs! No wonder you didn't last more than a day or two.
Hello, Jim! It was indeed monotonous and I couldn't imagine doing it day after day. It was just an unusual situation. Yes, there were no satisfied customers at the end of it. The war machine contractors made out like bandits, I believe. Thank you for writing!
Wow!
I hope that's a good Wow, Jim! : )
'cause it's 1,2,3 what are we fightin' for? Don't ask me I don't give a a damn...
Those were strange times. Most of us youngsters didn't really even understand what that war was all about but we knew that if it dragged out long enough, we would be next.
Yes, and making plans to emigrate to Canada...
Yes, they were, Jim. I believed we weren't getting the whole story, whatever it was. Things haven't changed. My choice was to go to college or get drafted. I lasted 3 years in college, as my band was busy and I wanted it more. This was '67. I was called up early '68 just as the band was breaking up. LOL. Lucky for me I had a bad knee and didn't have to go. This bomb story was in spring, 3 months later.
I was 1A and had been called in for my physical. "Next stop, Vietnam!"
Say what you want about Nixon, but he instituted the lottery and I just barely escaped Vietnam.
Hi, Rad. I came close to having to go. The draft was still on. See my reply to Jim C. above.
Glad you missed it!
It was college or Vietnam for me too. It's hard to set a course, when you are living in a maelstrom.
I hear you loud and clear on the "maelstrom", Rad. As if just growing up wasn't enough. "I was so much older then, I'm younger that that now."
Maybe the younger generation needs to listen to some Dylan. I don't know if I'm getting younger, but I'm a whole lot less confused than I used to be.
Me, too! I'm not sure if I've figured things out, or if most of the things that I gave thought to, weren't worth the concern that came with them. Like most of the things we worry about don't come to pass.
A close call for you! The draft ended when I was a junior in high school.
I figured from that subtitle that Country Joe and The Fish were somehow going to be involved.
Yes, it was a giveaway! That's going back a some years. Thanks for commenting, David!