College Student or Draftee?

I graduated from high school in 1966. With a much-needed loan from my dear mother, and behind my old man's back, I enrolled in junior college and retained my 1-A status, to avoid being drafted into the Army. Unfortunately, this plan was short-lived. Due to my love for the girls and drinking beer, I very seldom showed up for class. Therefore, I flunked out of college in the first semester. Bummer. I was back on the draft list, and expected to receive my notice in the mail within a very short time.

Many of my friends were getting married to avoid Vietnam. It was a fate worse than death in my mind, so I chose to take my chances with the Viet Cong, rather than a wife. My mother, with her ultimate wisdom, talked me into joining the Navy, to avoid being drafted as a ground soldier in the Army. I thought that was a pretty good idea because my older brother had served in the Navy some years before, and he had survived. Since I was a big believer that "misery loves company," I talked my pal, Bob, into enlisting in the Navy with me. The recruiter assured us that we were on the "buddy system," and would be stationed on the same ship together. What a liar he was! We soon found out that there was no such thing as the "buddy system." However, we were both home-ported in Long Beach, so we did get to see each other on occasion. Bob ended up marrying the hometown girl he had dated for about a year, and your's truly was his best man. Married and in the service? Double jeopardy, I concluded!

When I post next week, I'll continue with some more info on where I came from, and how I got to where I am today.

Nine Years Later

When I last posted, I wrote about being in the third grade. Nine years later, it was time to graduate from high school. Things had not improved much as far as academics, and my name was not posted on the list to graduate that year. I was making all "D's" as I had done for years, so what was the problem?

Well, some pesky math teacher had the audacity to give me an "F". His reasoning was that I had lost my math book at the beginning of the school year, so I flunked most of the tests. When I begged for mercy the day before graduation, he agreed to raise the "F" to a "D", if I found the book and turned it in.

There was a problem. I had no clue in hell where the book might be. And another problem surfaced. I was given a note from the hall monitor that said the Dean wanted to see me immediately. It just so happened that I still had half of a year of detention hall left because I had been caught cutting classes. I informed the Dean that I would not be graduating and had no intention of returning to school in the fall. Before I exited his office he told me he had something that belonged to me. He handed me the math book that had been turned into lost and found some months earlier. I immediately took it to the math instructor and he kept his end of the bargain by changing my grade to a "D". I proudly graduated with my class in 1966.

I wish now that I would have paid more attention in school. If I had, writing, editing, and proofing my novels today would sure be a lot easier for me.

The Bad Student

To say I did poorly in elementary school would be a gross understatement. I was too immature, and should have been held back a year after the first grade. Anyway, I wasn't held back, but was pushed forward. I struggled to keep up with the other students. My mind constantly wandered, and I focused on everything except learning.

A boy named Edward Paul sat next to me in third grade and was an academic clone of myself. We were a deadly combination, and spent most of our time making "fart" jokes. In that day we called them "windies", which sounds much more sophisticated, don't you think? The teacher called both of our mothers. Edward was held back that year, but Bobby (they called me back then), was ushered on.

Who would have ever thought that I would publish a book one day? Well, that day has come.