Turning Point

Mom, Karina and I spent Christmas eve in 1972 visiting the family of a woman that mom was "counseling". She was in her mid 20s (quite pretty), had a 5 year old son and was married to a much older man. The issue was that she had gone back to college and was surrounded by guys her own age and that was causing marital problems... They were a very nice couple and I have no idea how that story turned out - and it doesn't really matter (in the context of my blog, that is). I guess the point is that when you mom is a "psychic counselor" you tend to be surrounded by "reality impaired" people who have lots of drama in their lives :-)

Aside: When I was little and I saw adults going through "drama" I could never figure out what the deal was, and when I asked about it they would always tell me that when I got older I would understand... Well, I'm 59 years old now and I still don't have a clue what it's about. Whenever I see people go through "dramatic episodes" I still feel like a little kid who is just too young to "get it"... I mean, I just don't see how it accomplishes anything... But I digress :-)

As the sun rose on those first few days of 1973 I found myself in a state of mind that's hard to describe. I was not exactly unhappy - just discouraged... And although I was content with my life, I was far from satisfied... I was tired of "going with the flow" and felt I needed to gain some level of control. I just didn't know how to do it...
I'd already concluded that I'd never make it as a rock guitarist (which was the only thing I'd ever put any effort into) and I'd pretty much stopped trying to find a job - I just couldn't handle any more rejection. (I took it way too personally.)

And the hardest part to explain is why I woke up one morning in mid-January and headed to the local Air Force recruiter's office.
Anyone who has paid attention to my past 300 posts knows that I'd spent my entire life up to that point avoiding pain, discomfort and effort... Seriously! ... "Avoidance" was at the very core of my existence :-) That made military service a truly unlikely choice indeed.

I wish I could say that the desire to serve my country was one of the factors but it really wasn't. As a matter of fact (much to my surprise) only 1 of the 50 men I went through basic training with exhibited any level of patriotic zeal. Yes - apparently all those folks who gushed about patriotic duty during Vietnam believed that someone else should be doing the fighting (that was the whole point of "Fortunate Son" by Credence Clearwater Revival).
I also considered the fact that my uncle (mom's brother) had been among the most heavily decorated Austro-Hungarian WWI veterans and that my dad had been a WWII fighter pilot - so service was definitely "in my blood" on both sides. And I actually thought quite a bit about what that ex-Marine Vietnam vet in college told me: If you don't serve, your opinions about military matters don't count.

But to be honest, my main considerations were a roof over my head, 3 meals a day, medical and dental care (which I'd had very little of as a teen), career training, and (if I so desired) the GI Bill to pay for college afterward...

And most importantly, it would finally get me off the "crazy train" :-)