Draft

I worked today. I write technical manuals for aircraft components. I had one such manual on my desk in my cubicle this morning. The manual was a review draft that was about to be sent to its final review.

My cube mate is a retired airline pilot, 78 years old and working part time to keep his mind active. He looked at the manual on my desk and saw the "draft" written on it and said he hated that word. I asked him why since he had a sweater on and it wasn’t drafty in the office at all. Draft is one of those words with many different meanings. To be "drafted" to the army; to "draft" a document; or a "draft" as in breeze. He said that he was drafted once. I didn’t press it any further but I knew what he meant. Jim can be a talker and at times it makes it difficult to get things done. So I let him go get his coffee. He is a good guy though and it is a pleasure having him as a cube mate. Plus, he only works part time so most of the time that I am there, he is not.

When he mentioned about the draft I started thinking about when I was a kid. I was in high school during the Vietnam War. I graduated high school in 1976. The war was over, or at least the US involvement was, a year before I graduated. There was no selective service requirement at the time. I was at the end of the baby boomer generation and I fell into the mid years - post draft and pre-selective service. I was never asked. I have often thought about what I would have done if I had been drafted. I was a shy, timid kid and probably would have done what was expected, done what I was told. I would have served…and been scared to death the whole time.

But I was really scared for my older brother. We have never talked about the draft or selective service. Probably, because it was all over when we graduated from school. Honestly, it never came up. As I am older now, and hopefully wiser, I realize that I missed out. The service would have been a great experience for me. I should have signed up. But, at 17, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I went to college and hid from life.

I serve my country now by being gainfully employed and paying taxes on what I earn. I spend most of my money and when I do that I pay taxes on what I spend. And I educate myself before elections. I vote my conscience. I try to vote for what is right. But given the primary system, sometimes I am forced to vote for what is left. I try to serve my country as well as I know how.

I am proud to be an American. And I will stand up for freedom and liberty as long as I live. I am proud of those who serve and they are better men than I am I salute them and thank them for their sacrifice and service.