Monday, September 16, 2002
 

A brief story, told by one of my classmates here:

Her father was young when Vietnam happened, and he wanted to avoid the draft and concluded that the best way to do so was to go to college. Problem was, he couldn't really read, so in six months, he taught himself and goes off to college. When he's done four years later, the draft is still on, and he and several of his friends have to go draw numbers, and he draws 3. His friends hung around and tried to cheer him up, but he said it was the worst night of his life, because he knew he was going to die. He went to go tell his mother the next morning, and when he did, she promptly produced his medical records from childhood. He'd had nephritis when he was three and was consequently medically ineligible. She'd saved all this specifically in case there ever was a draft. He said, "Mom, why did you tell me this four years ago?," and she replied, "because then you never would have gone to college, would you?"

He is now a shop teacher and, as he says, teaches kids with behavior problems how to use dangerous machinery.

Elvisette philosophized at 2:49 PM