Looking back, my childhood was a series of wacky disasters and adventures that were actually the perfect rehearsal for plebe year in the Academy. Whether I drank fish sauce like fine vintage wine, or played barbarian barber on my own eyebrows, or pulling off a “Mission Impossible” adventure in downtown Sta. Cruz, I was inadvertently training for my future in the Army. These escapades weren’t just mischief; they were early masterclasses in audacity, self-reliance, and the art of the calculated risk.
Color My World 