Some made the adjustment, but a lot of us didn't." That's why you left us?" I had to get away. I had to, for lack of a better way of saying it, cleans... my system. I had to get rid of the insane urge to settle every argument with a vertical butt stroke. I was seething with violence and I had to get it out of me." So what did you do when you were gone?" I'm not going into that. A lot of what I did I'm not proud of, but to boil it down I looked for dangerous jobs, jobs that would let me work the. I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t cold. My lungs weren’t hurting particularly. I knew what had happened. I was dead. The murk was just the mess I’d made of my life. Maybe I would have eternity to clear it up. For some reason I remembered just when I’d lost Hope.My mid-life crisis hit the day I realized thirty-three was half-way through my life expectancy. Of course, technically, having already survived Viet Nam, I should have had a much longer life expectancy than the sixty-six that was. More

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