The Good Old Days (early sixties)

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The old days for me were 1998!

 

Taylor,

You need DocBrown's Time Machine to see the Good Old Days :hail:

 

LOL!!!! :devil:

 

Ahh ... the 90's ... what great times!

We had a budget SURPLUS!!!
The stock market could only go up.
And the news media's biggest concern was Bill Clintons sex life

Take me back there

 

No thanks! No affairs for me!

 

" . . Ahh ... the 90's ... what great times!

We had a budget SURPLUS!!!
The stock market could only go up.
And the news media's biggest concern was Bill Clintons sex life

Take me back there . . . "

Then some years later Alan Greenspan's smoke and mirror policies went up in in the burning carnage it created.
Didn't the national debt double and government spending set all sorts of records during the eight Bush years?
I've never been accused of being a Clinton supporter BUT . . . .

 

The decade of the '60s, in retrospect, was a "giant step for mankind."

JFK focused our national effort to land on the moon by the end of the decade. LBJ launched us into forming the Great Society [not there yet ... still a work in progress.] And, then there was Vietnam.
There are 58-thousand plus names on The Wall to remind us of our involvement in that tropical paradise.

In any event, the highlight of the decade was beating the USRR by being first to land on the moon. At that moment of heroic national achievement, my fellow Grunts and myself were on the dirty end of the stick. We were slogging through the rice paddies of the Mekong Delta. We were down in the mud, along with the agony of blood, sweat and tears. While we were gutting-it-out, we knew that our more illustrious compatriots were whizzing through the glory of space and bouncing around on the surface of the moon.

That evening, after having been lifted [choppered] to a FOB [Forward Operating Base], we went through our regular routine. This included a quick and thorough cleaning of our weapons [they always came first], stripping in front of the medics for a leach inspection, shaving and bushing our teeth using a helmet [steel pot] half filled with potable water [lifted forward in water trailers], and eating a freshly prepared meal that was cooked in the rear and flown to us in mermite [thermal] cans. We were lucky to get one hot meal a day. Otherwise it was just another meal of C-rations. Many of the C-rats were leftovers from the Korean War ... being dated in the early '50s.

There was a large medical tent equipped with folding tables and folding chairs. We would sit there with our feet soaking in aluminum pans filled with a solution of chlorinated water. This was done to kill foot fungus [jungle rot and/or trench foot] before it started eating away at our flesh. While soaking our feet, we were issued two can of warm beer to drink ... a gift from a grateful nation. As we sat there, soaking and sipping, we watched a B&W TV set as it showed our brothers-in-arms bouncing around the surface of the moon. They had traded their steel helmets, armored vests and rifles for bulky space suits, and we were OK with that. In fact, we were bursting with pride for them.

Even though we knew we were on the dirty end of the stick, seeing our guys bouncing on the moon gave us a boost that lifted our morale high enough to join with theirs. The mud, blood, sweat and tears remained the same, but, somehow, just somehow, slogging those rice paddies became less dreaded.

Although the '60s was an event-filled decade, it is not exactly one that I would care to relive ... again.

 

BTW, I was born a collector in 2002 ( im 9). The first time i saw a wheatie was when i was 3 i gave to my mom and she said what u got there and i said: a ''eat 'enny. she said what and she look at it and said wow! hes gonna be a good collector. LOL now i got like a bizillion wheaties. And 1 buffalo and a merc. and a silver. including 2 steel wheats