A Colourful Force for Change.

Just been taking a trip down memory lane listening to some of the music that was big when I was a teenager. Much of the memory is a bit blurred, but I do remember that it was always sunny.

Another thing I remember is our dads always complaining that boys weren’t boys any more because they had long hair and wore pink shirts. I had a pink shirt; my friend Barry had a pink shirt. The ownership of a pale pink shirt was de rigeur at the time. It was our form of rebellion.

And so I do believe that the social historians have it all wrong when they claim that the major factors in the rise of the permissive society were sex and drugs. Where I lived it was the pink shirt.