There are those moments in the bathroom, first thing, apart from deciding what needs to be cleansed, of the floor & walls, when things fall into place. My gen spent their upbringing under the thumb of a mum who knew best & made sure you knew. Then I left home & heard the album of my awakening: David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust, “they’re quite aware of what they’re going through”. Of course, by the time Young Americans was written & sung, our trajectory through the cold war world was charted.
Of course, science makes for a nanny state: butter is bad, margarine better, trans fats are evil. We have to research but we also have to live our lives, make our mistakes, learn by our own experiences. I have to apologise, here & now, for those pompous, judgemental moments in previous blog chapters. It’s hard, when you’ve done something a thousand times, not to draw the inevitable conclusion. My niece has just given birth to her beautiful new daughter; you want to reach out, to ward & protect. Don’t do that. But apart from obvious & impending danger, we all have to lead our own lives. It removes such a burden; non-judgementalism is such a freedom.
My gen created our own style, in the shadow of Elvis, Bowie & Jefferson Airplane’s white rabbit et al. After all, the ones that mother gives you don’t do anything at all. At the local service station where I went to buy the weekend paper & a group of bikers were re-fueling expensively, one of them wore the motto Deus Ex Machina on the back of his jacket (not: Mary & mom & Hell’s Angels). We all carry the seeds of karma in our actions; it’s an inevitable eventuality, & requires no self-righteousness from a bystander.
The artists have already filled the Aria hall to define their generation’s experiences: Placebo, REM, Creep, Gotye etc. The picture is coming through, loud & clear.