Dressed in denim jackets and bell bottom jeans with colorful patches sewn over holes that never existed, we tried to be normal 1970’s youth. We listened to Neil Young, Cat Stevens, Eagles, America and Pink Floyd. Our attempt to be non-conformists only managed to create more conformity. And short military haircuts can’t be disguised in a world where the length of your hair is a status symbol. No matter how hard we pretended to be friends, it was still just a stranger that passed the hash pipe back across the table. We’d take a hit and dream we were home.
Jerry Brotherton 
So pleased I missed that
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word, friend. Greetings from Australia.
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And a hearty hello from the North. Thanks for dropping by today my friend.
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You captured 1976 very well!
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Thanks Liz.
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I imagine being “thrown” into the military…whether by choice or not, it was still a time of figuring out how to cope, how to survive, how to thrive…all while desperately missing home and loved ones.
A vivid write, Jerry!
HUGS!!! :-)
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