Just before I graduated high school in 1982, I felt as though despite the problems we had as a country, we still had a common bond of patriotism and a love for what we had and preserved through all of the tumult in the late 1960’s and 1970’s.
I was swimming in the American illusion because I really didn’t have many responsibilities and I was cynical of my father’s complaints about my country. All I knew of politics could be summed up in editorial jokes found in Mad Magazine or in a column I discovered in Spy Magazine.
That was my education in current affairs until I left for South America. The day I landed in Lima, Peru on the way to Argentina, I grew up or rather wised up when I stared down the barrel of a gun.