Boxed in

Mr. Beagles may have misunderstood my stint in grad school; I certainly didn't complete anything in the six weeks I attended.  To me, the big hurdle was getting accepted, especially when you're dealing with the high-tone Institute of Design at the Illinois Institute of Technology.  Unfortunately, I had neither the grade-point average nor the academic references from my college advisor to gain admission.  Yet, armed only with a sketchbook and a gift of gab, I talked my way into the school.  Once in, I thought it would be nothing more than the usual grind to get that piece of paper in two years.

Again, I was wrong.  Time was my enemy.  The G.I. Bill paid a good chunk of change for the tuition and fees, but not enough; I had to keep working the night shift at the printing plant, four days a week, ten hours a day.  Not easy to attend school full time and work full time, as I discovered.  Shows how smart I was...it took six weeks to figure out the problem.

I'm sure my folks would have helped me out financially if needed, but I decided that I would rather earn the $4/hour working than go to school full time.  Another damn turning point.

-----

My old report cards may have slipped through the cracks of time, unless my sister has them.  When Mom died, she took care of all that stuff, along with the family relics, curios, and detritus.  Filled up her basement pretty good but I don't know if any of my old stuff is still around.  I don't think I even have a copy of my birth certificate.  The only paperwork I know for sure that is in my possession is my divorce decree and DD214 (military discharge document, Uncle Ken).  Oh, there is some old tax stuff, but that's of no interest.

I have plenty of crap going way, way back, but paperwork isn't a part of it.

-----

There seems to be little doubt that gays have been in the military since ancient times, but I wasn't aware of any.  But that sort of thing was off my radar and it would have taken some extreme behavior for me to take notice.  Only one thing stands out...one time I was chowing down at a fast food joint near Ft. Rucker and I saw a grizzled old sergeant sitting with a young PFC at the same small table, talking like friends.  They were in civilian clothes but I recognized them from my company.  I thought it odd but didn't give it much thought.

-----

If you can only choose between the lesser of two evils there will never be the opportunity to have more choices.  I'd like to choose between the lesser of three, four, or five evils, if need be.  The binary aspect of the American political structure drives me nuts, and it's driving the repubs nuts, too.  Quite a few repubs have stated they're voting for the Big Girl, and that speaks volumes about the current political situation.

But any additional parties will never get national traction without having a significant base at the local level; it's got to start at the bottom, I believe.  Still a big can of worms, and I have no solution.