A Man of the Modern Era
A Man of the Modern Era I am become, without choice, a modern kind of guy though I’m over fifty. I recall the heady days of JFK and his Camelot, when all seemed right with the world. As a kid back then, I had a head full of pie-in-the-sky ideals; everything seemed magical. I later watched men walk on the moon live-as-it-happened, with Walter Cronkite on TV gushing about the greatness of another uniquely-American achievement. That’s when there was a world to speak of. Not quite such a thing any more. We grew up expecting Soviet nuclear devastation at any minute. Then the Sovs crashed, and we had peace in our time. Well, that’s what we thought but, as usual, we lied to ourselves and to each other. Sad, really, how Man always finds it …