I don't want to drown Cedric's lovely "LOVE" discussion, so I am starting a new thread, which arose from Magical Khun Bwana calling me a "draft dodger."

Well, this is a tale of two people, so let me introduce number two: Ralph, a stern New England type, uptight Protestant, who was my high-school classmate. That means we have known each other practically forever. Ralph, a serious student, graduated first in our class. I came in third. So there could be some rivalry there.

Now for Ralph's tale. He was drafted into the Army and went to Vietnam. Naturally, he was not sent into combat, but shut up in some hot Saigon room doing some sort of intelligence work. The Army usually is smart enough to send "brains" to the "brains" department, and "brawn" to the "brawn" department. Ralph was definitely not brawn.

What made it easier for him to accept being drafted was his rock-ribbed conservatism and -- not a small deal -- the fact that he had not yet come out to himself at the time he went into the Army! He later told me that he did not really accept his own gay nature before the age of 28 -- and I've heard that story a number of times. He had his own, characteristic "Ralph" reaction to this realization: he went firmly into the closet and slammed the door, while he pursued an ever-more-eminent career in Thai business circles. (Yes, he moved to Thailand. He thought the Vietnamese were "hard-hearted" and loved the romantic nature of the Thai people.)

As a result, this closeted American gay man has spent his entire adult life living in Thailand. He loves the place, and he definitely takes boys off from time to time -- always the more discreet, upper-class places where tourists are rarely seen, and the boys have been "trained" to give customer satisfaction. In fact, I once took one of those boys off. He gave me a nice blow-job ("trained") but I have forgotten his name and never wanted to see him again.

So, what's the point, Henry?

Well, I now take a much longer and wiser view of things, and I realize that if I had simply gone to Vietnam with the Army, I would almost certainly have avoided combat because any officer who picked me for combat would be a lunatic: I am so near-sighted that I am blind without my glasses, I have no athletic ability, I am not "one of the guys." So I most likely would have wound up in logistics, or the secretarial pool, or even intelligence work. Just like my high-school classmate Ralph.

Except for one little thing. I had already spent two years in Tunisia, f*cking like a bunny-rabbit. I am absolutely sure that I would have tried to have as much fun in Vietnam -- unlike Ralph, still drinking beer and chatting up hot chicks.

The downside? I might have received a Dishonorable Discharge -- in those times, almost a professional death sentence.

The upside? I might have moved to Thailand way back in 1973 or so!

But Ralph would still have shunned me. I was out, and he was not -- and never would be. Besides, Ralph cares about his social eminence. I don't.

So, to sum up, you're probably lucky I didn't do that, or else you'd have this crusty old bastard saying "Young man, I have been living here for FORTY YEARS, and you don't know a dam thing!" :-)

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