I was a very high number (364)–and I was touched when my girlfriend called me up ecstatic. I hadn’t been too worried, though–I had figured my terrible vision would keep me out. Still, it was great to hear that the draft wouldn’t ruin my protracted adolescence, cut through the haze of marijuana, or make me stop demonstrating for an end to the war that was killing innocent civilians, wrecking our nation’s reputation and essential goodness (not for the last time), and forcing guys not fortunate enough to be in college deep into harm’s way.
