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8 June 1980
Seoul
Dear Spike, I haven't got your response to my inspired last missive, written in the heat of actual civil disturbance, Konly 180 clicks down the road, however, since you are in the same position I have been in for the last couple years, I am going to give you a break. One must make allowances for those who ride the foaming waves, even if some of the seas are a mite narrower and more turbulent than others. I write from the horns of a dilemma. Let me briefly outline the circumstances of this thing: I have to make an importance Decision about the next few years right quick, I have to decide whether to let the good 'ole United Snakes wander down the next decade with or without my inconsiderable talents, I vacillate daily, because the Job stinks, and I loath a simple majority of the people I work with, one would think the thing would be easy.
The problem is that I fear I have become addicted to a powerful drug. It has got into my bones, I'm afraid, and there is nothing I can do about it, I am a crisis junky. I have come to enjoy the delicious unsettling experience of having armed people who don't like me running around spewing propaganda. I look at my hands and the growing number of graying hairs on my head aghast. I thought I could handle my crises. I can't be this driven creature with a set of jump boots and two illegal handguns under my camouflage fatigues, can I?
The alternative back to business, or the unsettled life of the country gypsy cum adventurer. Between you and me, the bottom line I hear so much about isn't anything like the Real One, the Interface between chow in the wardroom and the circling sharks, or the slavering communists and the total destruction of those chumps in the 2nd Division.
A powerful drug. Which brings me to the nuts and bolts of this thing. If, and I stress the intangible nature of this proposition, I decide to ask for COMIDEASTFOR or something goofy like that for the 1981-82 Crisis season rather than opt for the placid waters of CIVPAC (civilian life and sessions with COMSIXPACK) I think I should go ahead and get some more land.
Tennessee and Idaho are the likely candidates, and as opposed to Martin Lake, and I don't have any blood kin down in the Volunteer State. Therefore, I reiterate a question I think I asked last year: What is around Salmon, in the $4-6500 range, and pretty?
I wouldn't mind going halvies on something, as with construction costs, I'm afraid we would be reduced to toiling in the muck our-selves to erect anything. The key to it, as I see it, is to have something concrete in the places where you like to be. Something triangular in nature- Michigan for the late summer and the Fall, Idaho for Summers and Winter sports, and something down South for the re-treat from the gale winds and the snow drifts.
Financially, I am somewhat constricted for the next five months. I took what is known as a "dead Horse," a three-month advance payment on my base pay. It will take quite awhile longer to pay back. Thankfully my living expenses are few, and I can even lay away a pittance if I can continue to eschew the night life and the strong cocktails (not buying round after round, and the exorbitant cost of the ancillary Dangerous Substances is a hard economy, but one that has been thrust upon me.) Once over the hurdle of the next summer timeframe, I should be in fat city.
The Martin Lake payments are (220 for the next 4 1/2 years, thereafter I am free and clear up there. I think I could handle another set of modest payments to get a lump sum together- something around four grand.
That is around the Fall, and I should know what I want to do by then. I expect I will be heartily sick of this place by then (after all, I have a good shot at it already) Getting out means the Navy can keep me here till expiration of Obligated Service, which in light of the current paucity of intel wienies of my expertise, is entirely likely.
Win, lose or draw, the next year is going to bring changes aplenty.
Due to the 'Rents scientific planning, you are going to be looking at, and feeling the cold winds tff thirty not long after me. I will be turning those 'middle years' in Asia, and would just as soon have some real assets besides that Oldmobile 88, the rolling chunk of cast iron history you put up on blocks for me.
When I saw the boys in park City on that strange plunge across the Snakes, I was struck by aimless nature of the Valley That Time Should Have Forgot.
I'm afraid I am too contaminated by my bourgeoisie upbringing to settle for that. I do like the country, though.
Well listen, this is entirely too convoluted for me to fathom The summer monsoon seems to have arrived, and if I am to walk the five miles down to the Naija for my big Day Off binge, I had better get a move on. I promise that I will let you know when I make the big decision, but in the meantime, start looking around, I realize the cash flow is tough, but maybe we can scrape up enough to avoid the usury that mortgages mean.
(We could possibly work a scam with my VA loan entitlement, which I have not yet used. That would mean I would have to live there...if only for a day, then file some paperwork where I would 'pay' you to work on the place, while you would pay me for rent, enabling us both to write off the money, depreciate it as rental property, and enable me to claim trips there as business expense. It is a fascinating racket. Tax-wise, I am In good shape, being able to deduct up to ($5,000 for each move, one for this year and next, and all the Interest on Martin Lake, which should be about $1,200. Your considerable financial expertise can penetrate the fog of the situation. It would be criminal not to take advantage of It.)
I know the accident is cramping your style, so having laid my cards on the table, let me know what is practical and was is pipe dreams.
After all, with one burst of temper I could be unemployed in less than a year. Take care,
Vic |