Wednesday, July 11, 2018

My Redacted Life: Chapter Twelve: (Cont._3)

So 1971 drew to a close and I had survived. I had gained a year of experience both in urban planning and in dealing with civilian life. I can't truthfully say which was the most valuable. I had been running into some of my old acquaintances from college. Some of them didn't seem too happy. I met a few veterans such as myself. They were, to a person, well adjusted and pleased to be in the "free world."

That's why it has always amazed me that the press was able to build such myths about them. Oh well.

Christmas Day passed and worked resumed on Monday. The staff realized that all the bosses, including the new engineering partner, had planned the week off between Christmas and New Year's. We were on our own.

There began a tradition that exists, I imagine, to this day, best described by the old adage, "When the cat's away, the mice will play." We were enjoying the business equivalent of having "the crops laid by." There weren't any dire deadlines hanging over us like giant spider webs. We relaxed. It had been a trying year and we deserved it.

We discovered the benefit of the "designated answerer" in case one of the bosses called in. We made a list of errands that required staff to be absent and developed quite a skill at taking messages. Friday came and for the half-day that we were scheduled to work, some ingredients miraculously appeared that produced a gallon of Bloody Marys. This time we left the phone off the hook.

So ended that marvelous year in which I learned urban planning, responsibility, the benefits of study, deceit, trickery, and loyalty in equal measures, all that a "Young Turk" needed to get ahead.

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