As a family from the Midwest we had and lived in a rich time. Or that it was a time that the jet age would bloom along with computer science. We were all fond of each. The age of computers was in some respects an insight to what the future might hold, and the age of jet transportation was a means to find and experience what one had only heard of, yet never seen.
The price of most goods seemed closer to a nickel and dime standard than to a paper standard. Yet the lure of gold was always keen in the eye of all. The early West of gold rush, or the eye of the gold dollar mesmerized the television show of fame and fortune. The ticker tape of stock streaming from within the glass domed teletype was the new gold from which its expression was held by the ideal of material wealth and fortune. Back then, a billion dollars was a vast sum. By today’s' standards it is remarkable to see the value of boom and bust internet companies to be weighed in the billions when inside the bubble was merely a box plugged into a wall outlet and its associated telephone line.
On the street I trampled over myself, to find work and succeeded to find what I had held closest to that which I aspired within only to find the nature of who I was to become. We had moved from the Midwest to New England, as an IBM family and would remain in New England even to this day. In New England, a cradle of early America, are the old ways and the adherent stance to protect those ways from all else. The threat of high heating oil cost has driven a new nail into an old tradition of Yankee ingenuity, and where there was once a pending need to adapt there is as much a need to revolt.
But, as I set out to find my own way I made of opportunity to buy and sell silver coins while living in New Hampshire. It was back just before the oil embargo and the price of silver was moving with the pace of inflation. What had once seemed like a stable economy was now in the throws of soaring interest rates, unemployment and inflation. I could not help but to react if not over react to seeing around me what was once a peaceable and pleasurable journey become hostage to a world of gas lines, hostage taking, and crisis of conflicts as the mid east began to rage deeper into its own path of self destruction.
Silvers value was a new edge and gave those that saved their coin the return on a vehicle of savings that at one time was nothing more than the coin saved from pocket change. No matter the outcome of instability. The lesson was learned that the American dollar value withstood from its early standards and means inherited from the gold and silver standard was strong and resilient in this time of uncertainty. Most only needed to cash in on their coin of silver or gold to withstand most pressures of the economic stress. The Dow limped at 800 even as the new computer start ups and IPOs for the age of biotechs could return eye popping returns from their respective debuts.
Learning to work in a work environment dominated by veterans was a greater challenge than the task at hand and I soon found my way to a different avenue of opportunity. I rejected the coming of the drug age and desperately needed to find my own place to be with those that I would assume prescribe to like or similar values. My intentions back fired to the highest degree as I found myself in the midst of a haven for all that I had wanted to be away from.
From the hills of New Hampshire, to the landscape and work place of the Boston financial district, to the high mountains of the Rockies had I tread to find my own and the experiences became only harder to contend with. The bad times of the economic downturn from the 70s converging with the revolution of the 60s converged into one place and this melting pot, once a Mecca of silver was now my home away from home and I could not find the one place in either that I could belong. Thankfully, I could ski as well as I have enjoyed this sport ever since.