Back in the 1970s, the cool (or possibly groovy or far out) thing to do was to drop out
of the system, tune in to drugs, and get with “the scene”. Whether it was to a
flophouse in Soho or a park bench in Paris, young people went wandering.
When their bewildered parents pressed them for the logic of this sort of wild fit of
lifestyle experimentation, the stock answer from the younger generation was
this: “Sorry, Mom … Dad … I’ve got to find myself.”

















