My 19 y.o. daughter turned me on to the movie
Hair a few months ago. As I watched that time-capsule from my own bizarre youth, I reflected once again on the horror of LBJ's crime of running that war as a low-budget no-win political sideshow. In his eyes, the lives of thousands apparently mattered less than his own political career.
Yet, to this day, I feel personally diminished as a man by my easy evasion of my generation's challenge (I got a good draft number). I am embarassed, and obscurely ashamed, when talking with those who went.