The Distance Between Then and Now

I went to visit a friend of mine a couple of days ago. I spend time with him every week or so. We sit around, share a beer, and commiserate. I met him a long time ago at the synagogue. He’s older than I am by about sixteen years. We’re both writers. We’re both retired—at least in the sense that we’re not earning a wage anymore. But we keep busy. Being retired and being idle are two very different things.

My friend lives only a block away from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee (UWM) campus. I have to drive by the school grounds to get to his home. That means I see numerous students walking around the area. Traffic tends to be heavy near the campus, so there are often cars in front of me waiting for a light to change or for a pedestrian to cross the street. I have time to observe the latest generation of adults—and think.

I was a student almost fifty years ago. I look at these young people and ask myself, “Was I like that?” The answer is, “I don’t know.” I really don’t.

It’s hard for me to remember things that happened half a century ago. Hell, it’s hard for me to remember things that happened five minutes ago. I can recall very few specific incidents from my youth. However, I can conjure up the feelings I had. Now that I’ve managed to get through the wormhole and survived several decades of chaos, I feel mostly a sense of relief. For better or worse, most of the big decisions in life have already been made. Carl Jung wrote that the first half of life is the story, and the last half is the commentary. You’re reading the commentary.

My youngest son, who is several years older than the college students, isn’t shy about telling me that I don’t understand the challenges of his generation. I’m sure he’s right. He faces struggles I never had to deal with. The economy today is very different than it was when I was his age. The odds of him enjoying the financial security I currently have are low. Many people his age may never be able to afford a home or even pay off their student loans. He’s doing well in his chosen profession, but the ground keeps shifting beneath his feet. He can’t make long-term plans.

His generation’s views on relationships and sexuality seem exotic to me. Among his contemporaries, marriage is an anachronism, and relationships often feel transactional and transitory. Gender identity is now a multiple-choice question. When I was in my twenties, I knew only one openly gay person. Now, I know gay couples who are happily married. The ground has shifted under me too.

I don’t like social media, but I’m still on the computer a lot (like right now). The students at UWM and other universities live and breathe technology. They’ve always had the Internet. They’ve always had Facebook. They’ve seldom written a note by hand, and they’ve probably never licked a stamp.

I’m not saying the new social environment is good or bad. It’s probably a bit of both. All I know is that it’s alien to me—but natural to these younger folks.

So, back to the question: “Was I like that?”

In some ways, definitely not. I managed to earn a bachelor’s degree, but that was at West Point. I wasn’t a “college” student. I spent four years at a school that only had superficial similarities to a university. USMA was like going to an Ivy League college and doing time simultaneously. Even when I was an undergraduate, I didn’t fit in with my civilian compadres. I was an outlier when I was young, and in many ways, I still am.

So did I have anything in common with the young people I see at UWM?

Human nature doesn’t change much, if at all. When I was their age, I was energetic, curious, idealistic, and naive. I was painfully awkward with members of the opposite sex. I was cocky and terrified at the same time. I’m certain that the students who pass me on campus feel some of the same things.

They’re trying to figure it out. They’re trying to understand the meaning of their lives. They’re trying to make sense of their world.

So am I.

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Frank (Francis) Pauc is a graduate of West Point, Class of 1980. He completed the Military Intelligence Basic Course at Fort Huachuca and then went to Flight School at Fort Rucker. Frank was stationed with the 3rd Armor Division in West Germany at Fliegerhorst Airfield from December 1981 to January 1985. He flew Hueys and Black Hawks and was next assigned to the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, CA. He got the hell out of the Army in August 1986.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.