The non-chronological collected works of my misspent youth, with notes, for your reading pleasure. Most names have been changed because I probably didn't ask you first.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Mind The Gap, Christmas Break, 1996

It’s weird to have parents that think they’re cool. I mean, like, really cool. Because they hung out with real deal hippies or saw Hendrix or bought a Dylan record before Vietnam or snuck in a peace march before voting before getting a perm and voting for Reagan. It was a short-lived thing. I think most of the so-called “cool” parents were well out of interesting before Ziggy Stardust, let alone before The Clash.

Thus, I can’t really describe the “boogeying down” that’s happening in my mother’s living room right now because its kind of upsetting. I really think the real generation gap comes down to a question of exactly when you think Eric Clapton started to suck or alternately whether you think Eric Clapton always sort of sucked.

Update: my stepfather wants to know if I’ve ever heard of the Alan Parsons Project.

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