Recently by Mel Goldberg:

communist symbol as a question mark
EmailTwitterFacebookDiggStumbleUponGoogle+

Until January 27, 1973, all young men were required to register for the Selective Service and were eligible to be drafted into military service. A month after I had turned 18 in 1955, I received my letter telling me to report for the mandatory Selective Service physical and registration . . . After my physical examination, I stood totally naked in a line with 24 other young men on the third floor of my Selective Service Center, when a sergeant with a clipboard approached and asked several people to step forward. My name was the first he called. There were other names, but I paid no attention after he called mine.

I had been poked and prodded. I had peed in a cup, bent and spread my cheeks, and had my testicles held while I coughed. I had no doubt about the physical exam. I was on the University of Illinois wrestling team, lifted weights every day, and was in excellent physical condition. I looked forward to my second year at the Chicago’s Navy Pier Campus of the University. More… “College Manifesto”

Mel Goldberg earned an MA in English. He has taught high school and college literature and writing in California, Illinois, Arizona and as a Fulbright Exchange Teacher at Stanground College in Cambridgeshire, England. With his life partner, artist Bev Kephart, they sold most of their possessions in Sedona, Arizona, and traveled in a small motor home for seven years throughout the US, Canada, and Mexico. They now live in the village of Ajijic in Jalisco, Mexico. His stories and poetry now appear online and in print in The United States, The United Kingdom, New Zealand, Australia, and Mexico. His book of haiku, The Weight of Snowflakes, is available from Red Moon Press.

EmailTwitterFacebookDiggStumbleUponGoogle+