I awaited my son at university some weeks ago I watched the assortment of students coming and going and was reminded just how conformist we all are. Every single kid or semi-kid was the same as the last one that passed me by. Same tops, same jeans, same vogue shapes and same coifs; not an individual among them.
When I was a kid I was in love with the “60/70’s Revolution” the music the clothes the freedoms. We wanted nothing to do with conformity or our parents moralities and yet our clothes were our own uniforms and we conformed to the ways of the new age.
It bothered me; but very few listened when I prated loudly on the matter. I once insisted that it was not really a revolution if we were just swapping one set of rules for another.
I became a noted madman because I said we were just as bad as our parents because we frowned on those that struggled toward their own individuality.
As I waited for my son I had to conclude that nothing changes.