The Cold War era was a confusing time for a teenager.
I thought I wanted to be a ham. No, not the kind of ham; that's a nickname for a bad actor. (Although I was once almost that too, but that's another story.) And also not the pink meat that goes perfectly with green eggs. Nope, this was a different kind of ham -- for a while in my early teens, I wanted to be a ham radio operator. I think...