Ears to Hear

Reflections on the time around October 26, 1975

Hey ’30!

How are you today? I’m feeling fine. Tomorrow, I’ll be 67 years old. Just back from a nice family getaway.

On the drive home, my mind turned to how things looked on my 17th birthday and why did I even go to the Coast Guard Academy?

To start, you need to know that I’m a reader and always have been. More than most, I am influenced by what I read. This explains a lot about my state of mind on October 1975 and why I was drawn to CGA.

The news and commentary were generally bad those days. We had lost a war for the first time, our president had resigned after being caught in illegal campaign interference and arrogant coverups, and it appeared that we would run out of energy resources by the end of the century. It was an election year, but neither choice inspired hope. I seriously considered whether the best thing to do would be to move to the woods and live off the land.

But there were books that inspired me to reach higher. The Caine Mutiny, dark as it is overall, painted a picture of academy (USNA) life that seemed compelling in a certain way. I had always been a reader of adventure and military history, so this resonated with me. The book that really influenced me was more visual, though: a Tide Rips yearbook in my high school guidance library. The bright primary colors of the uniforms, brick buildings, water, white cutters, and cadet cars were sending adventure. The missions of the Coast Guard were also calling; I could believe in them. I still do. I had actually seen the Coast Guard in action responding to the Mississippi River floods of 1973. I figured that helping people in that way would lead to a better life than stewing about the state of the world all by myself. It was a good decision.

I’m glad that I wasn’t the only person to hold on to hope. The following years brought many good things, it turned out. I really enjoy digital photography, Spotify, and my goofy Goldendoodle dog, Leo. There was a lot more oil in the ground than we were told, and over time many other forms of energy have become economical. The political funk was bad in the late ’70s, but it eventually passed, and America re-invented itself, as it has many times. The military regained its footing and again became a source of pride. I was honored to be part of that.

My birthday that year would probably have included Mom’s pot roast and a cake decorated for Halloween. It was my last one at home, it turned out. I played on the high school football team, and we were on our way to a winning season, which culminated in a Turkey Day last-ditch win over our arch-rivals. I was in a theatrical play written and performed by the physics students for a beloved teacher. It was called “The Fig Connection” (fig as in newton.) Glory days.

Tomorrow’s celebration involves a nice meal with my family, possibly including truffle fries (which didn’t exist in 1975.) Back home, we’ll have carrot cake decorated for Halloween and open presents. My stepdaughter (the one who is your age) asked for my shoe size. Will they be crazy or cool?

Anyway, have a good one yourself.

Your pen pal,

Birthday Bob