A generation gap and upbringing – column
As current classic enthusiasts, we usually had that generation gap with our parents. A moped friend of mine, after barricading his bedroom door, went to bed with his helmet on. Because his father, head of a Catholic Boys' School, had sworn that his son had to get rid of his long hair. As sixteen-eighteen year olds, we were pleasantly obsessed with mopeds, motorcycles and cars. And to make that our property, we even wanted to work. What we usually did, by the way, is proof that low-paid work was already invented before neo-liberalism reached its full maturity.
