Anniversary

Just came to me: 48 years ago, to the day, I joined the Army in Berkeley, California. I was living in a tree house near the Cyclotron at the time, in Strawberry Canyon. I could've borrowed money from my parents, or moved home for that matter, but I was in my stage of independent stumbling and extreme confusion after realizing for the first time that I was not destined to become a great mathematician. I joined the Army because it was only three years, not four like the Navy, and this Navy brat almost killed my mother by the shock of such a decision. She was a good Navy wife. Dad, of course, understood completely, men being more commonly practical about such matters. I joined because the alternatives were to get a job or borrow money, neither of which appealed to me. And this stubborn decision turned out to be a significant one since I spent my career in the Army Security Agency (my recruiter had a quota to fill and I'd had some college) with 100 bright big brothers. An extraordinary experience! Half a century ago.

I just printed out the Cold War novel, BAUMHOLDER 1961, to take with me. See how it reads after a long spell away from it. Only 80 pages into it, but it will be short. I like about 175-225 printed.