When I was first supposed to go up for the draft, it was the biggest quarterly callup, and hopefully would be the last . It was late 1966. They needed 650,000 guys to sign the dotted line within 3 months; each was to serve for 2 years. I didn't want to go up for several reasons. One, I couldn't stand the idea of being a pawn of the sick society of America, dominated by men. Two, there was my musical career - the odds are so great anyway that you can't have an interruption. Anyway, no way Jose was I going to sleep in a bunkhouse with a bunch of crewcut machos: I hate guys - at least ones who call themselves guys - they are full of shit. So I was still in the Prime Movers band at this time. They were older guys, a blues band. I was waiting, smelling out the right move: waiting for the Stooges to appear. So what did I do? My strategy to get out was this. First, I said to my mom, "Mom, you know I've really been looking like a ragamuffin." So she bought me the kind of clothes that a mother buys, right? A pair of nice gray slacks that fit really absurdly, you know, and a funny crew neck, mauve sweater-ish sort of polo shirt. I had my hair cut very short. i looked great as a mamma's boy, my disguise was impeccable. My idea was to queer out. So I went down to the station, down to Fort Wayne with my peer group. We all went down on a special bus line. We all did a mental test, and then we took physicals, starting at station one. Station one is where you take off your clothes down to your skivies, and then you're supposed to get in line for the next bullshit test. So, in my part of the room, I stripped off and didn't have any underwear, just bare naked - pretty clever plan, eh? I just whacked it a little bit and walked out with just the most enormous hard-on (11" x 1 3/4" at approximately a 94 degree angle), straight toward my place in line. I'd not gone four steps when a shout rang out: "Halt!" a sergeant approached. "Where's your UNDERWEAR?!!!" So I got noticed right away. "Help me out man," I said. So they sent me to a rest station to collect myself. I then hyperventilated and ran down the hall, stopping just before I saw a medic - so I was really shaking - and he said, "what's wrong?" and I said, "I'm gay, man, I'm scared to be here with my clothes off around other men." So I went to the shrink, and he asked me questions like, "Wht does gay mean? What's a queen?" things like that. By this time I was really into it. He took me downstairs to the captain. I was almost in tears, I was so wrapped up in my role - lots of convulsions and tears. I started disgusting him and undermining his professional attitude, and he asked me to leave. It only took me an hour and a half to evade the draft: all in a good day's work.