In 1966, after I graduated from high school, I prepared to move to California. At that time, the California Highway Patrol had something less than a sterling reputation.
Just before I moved my dad told me, "Son, a-99 point nine percent o' the time, when yewz a-talkin' to some poe-lice ossifer, theyz a-gonna be armed, an' yer not. An' yew needs to conduct yourself accordingly."
Words to live by -- literally.
In 1967, approaching the peak of the Vietnam War, I was drafted into the U.S. Army and assigned to the infantry.
During the 1930s, my dad was a "China Sailor" in the U.S. Navy. In WWII, he served on destroyers in the Pacific. Later in life, he worked on seagoing dredges and on oceanographic vessels. Needless to say, he'd spent much time in waterfront dives and such.
As I prepared to report to the induction center, Dad advised, "Son, yer gonna meet all kinds a people in the service. There's two types o' folks you don' wanna mess with. They'z stevedores an' the U.S. Marines."
Again, words to live by -- literally.
-- C.E. "Pappy" Gee, Pasco