Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Back in the beatnik era, my mom was working as a journalist for The Australian Times, which was owned by Rupert Murdoch (when he was filthy rich, just not yet stinkin' filthy rich). She wasn't quite a star reporter, but she did get to interview a few famous people. She also met my dad, a civil engineer who spent his free time playing devil's advocate, arguing against whatever political movement was prevalent that month. Guess it beat his childhood days in the Bronx jerking sodas for extra change.

My parents lived in the same building with a lot of gay men, who worked as longshoremen and construction workers all day, but once back on 11th Street and Avenue C, these tough guys were comfortable enough to be surprisingly effeminate -- the original Village People.

Maybe the music was better in that time, but I just think my parents were glorifying their youth, saying there's been a decline in the quality of television, movies and comedy. Then again, what did I know? I thought Lenny Bruce looked like Dustin Hoffman in Lenny.

I think what made those the good ol' days was that they didn't have us kids yet. No worrying about Mikey playing too much craps, or family fights over stupid things like who finished off the gourmet cheese.

(Click on the cartoons to enlarge them.)


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