The 70s

Saw a movie today: the 70s. Simple and brutal.

It was awfully correct and reminded me of my own 70s.

I should puke right now, if only I could.

I tell my story:

The 40s

My life started just within the 40s limit: 1949.

The 40s, man, my father told me so much about it. How he shot rabbits during the war.

How -for fun, not patriotism- he robbed food-stamp bureaus, for the needy, the -declared- outlaws, the concealed, the jews.

During my conscious years he seemed to have the oppressor's opinions. 'Boy, do NOT bring a Jew girl home' -nor a brown girl, nor a chinese girl, I add, to complete the picture-

nevertheless he served time in Germany as 'Arbeitseinsetz', threw butter, potatoes and sugar over the concentration camps fences, which later were reported to have fallen off the truck he drove... He escaped after February 1945, having experienced the destruction of Dresden

as a prisoner. No 'Ausweis', no passport he made it back to Groningen (NL). Had to cross the IJssel near Zwolle swimming, cause the bridges were gone

Those were my 40s memories imprinted in my mind by my father's stories.

The 50s

The 50s were simple. I grew up singing psalms. Went to elementary school as a left-hander. Left that school a reformed student, i.e. a right-hander (especially where writing is concerned but still play tennis, eat, use scissors, cook a left-hander). I grew up Maarten 't Hart-style. Very ReformedChurch-like. Was thought the bible was 100% true (just like muslims nowadays see their holy book). So I asked the minister that educated me in true religion: 'Did Adam have a belly button?'. Answer of course should have been 'of course not, he was not born from a woman, he was created'. Instead of that answer I was told to leave, wash my mouth with soap and return after I showed remorse. I never did. For the rest of the 50s I loved my teacher(ess). Had a girl friend from 2nd till 4th grade, was sent to a food concentration camp (for 6 weeks only, no comparison to the 'real' thing), missed grammar lessons which were given at my school during that period giving me a life-long uneasiness with grammar in all languages except english, was set free having gained 200 grams in body weight, was taught that you were NEVER hungry, you only were ready to eat, learned what it is like to have friends, learned that I did not need so much time to do my homework/learn things, was secretely in love with Marjan van Meeuwen, whatever happened to her. In short I was pretty innocent.

The 60s

The 60s started with me entering the secondary school of my choice which was a fight in itself. 'They' wanted me to attend what was called 'technische school' at the time. When I got my doctorate a few decades after, my mother commemorated this moment in time (1989) by stating that if my teachers would have had their choice I might have celebrated my 25th anniversary as a carpenter. I chose another route, was robbed of my inner circle during puberty, moved to another city, where I finally entered another world. The world of self-conscious people who escaped the stuffy 50s' educutional rules (obey -as a slave- the ones above you, honour your parents, do not swear, always remember the -low- position you come from, never be more proud than your position grants you, always try hard, but do not expect to rise above yourself -whatever that was supposed to be-). In a secondary school student survey a teacher asked what dancing meant to me. I answered -unhampered by tradition-: to feel free, to have a nice time, to enjoy, where the proper answer at the time of course still was: to behave, to please your (female) partner, to get appreciated by others, especially your peers, etcetera.

I recorded every sound Bob Dylan uttered (still do, although sound really does not merit the performances offered), I danced, specifically alone and if 'possible' with girls, preferably on Led Zeppelin sounds. I read a lot of the 60s people's favourites. In short I entered left-wing thought. Zola, Marx, Chomsky in his early years and more, so I had 4 gods already (including Dylan), which is 3 more than the one I left at the end of the 50s. I was surely winning!

I received my (HighSchool++) diploma (having received a '4' for economics -in americo-educational-lingo that is something like a 'D' or thereabouts- and opted for the one study that interested me: (Business) Economics. My 'Kennedy=DEAD'-moment in 1963 was during the -6 weeks- time I was hospitalised for having a truly serious brain concussion, after falling from a gymnastics apparatus). As a result I flunked 3rd grade in HighSchool++ and ended up in a class with an average age of 25 years where I only counted 16 years behind my name. Learned a lot that year. Guys in my class educated me in the 60s lifestyle: Fuck every weekend, male or female, go to a doctor if your Willie looks purple, think by yourself instead of by your teachers /educators /churches /political parties or otherwise.

I did just that for the rest of my life (till now, but I suppose forever, except the 'fucking').

Typical 60s things I copied: free relations, free opinions, free thinking, free music, free anything...

The 70s

Backdrop all over the place. Nixon President. Me studying and graduating (1975). Me travelling to the USA for the 1st time (for a loooong holiday). I remember august 8 1975 when Nixon announced his resignation following the Watergate scandal. We were on a San Fransisco beach at the time and everybody around enjoyed the message. In short there was a party. The 70s also meant gurus, therapy sessions of all kinds. From Primal Scream to Moon, they all proved phony and have engraved into me the idea that therapy is not for me. From Freud to Moon, from Christianity to Bhuddism, all of them knocked at my spiritual door. I denied them entrance, and still do. This was absolutely NON-70s, so I lost a lot of friends. And gained a few new ones, that I still know to be as such.

I started work or 'a career' if you wish. University professor if you'd like to know. Hesitated a few times, between business and university (I did NOT say SCIENCE!). The university wanted me (I thought) so I chose that. As a matter of fact the university needed slaves to teach the ever rising number of students, but I was unaware of that at the time. I only thought: Me is a QUARTER, NOT a DIME anymore. How untrue that proved to be...

In 1974 my mother was struck ill by cancer. Was operated on by 1974's best Halal-butcher around (with a not-so-sharp knife). Result: mutilation, pain, anger, distress, loss of sex life. There you go with 2 name 4th generation 'doctors'.

But, look at the bright side of life: everytime I wanted to leave the university, having been offered a well-paid job in banking and otherwise, my boss raised my salary and promoted me which increased my confidence, and my feelings towards 'science' (as I thought economics to be at the time although I always distrusted the generally accepted paradigm of equilibrium that ruled the economic scientific world).

I met the loves of my life during the 70s. The first one was chinese and was chased away by my father. The second one -I was told- was supposed to be a lesbian, but -after I had a deep-deep conversation with her we both agreed that we were meant for each other. We bought a house of our own (my second owned house) in Dordrecht (which was spelled Durdrenct in former times, meaning SOAKED -with water of course-). She made me forget my former love and we extended our relation till 1986, at which time she offered me her final verdict: she was a lesbian after all.

The 70s I really, REALLY remember is the 70s of therapies and sects (Moon and other kinds). Therapy was all around (as in the 70s movie I saw tonight). Everything was therapy, really everything. It took me a while to discover that therapy is the american equivalent of (european) continental friends. Yes, FRIENDS. Who needs therapy when you have friends. Looking backwards I cannot help thinking: why was I a 'minority' in thinking that therapy is the commercial definition of FRIENDS?

The 80s

The 80s were my bliss decade. Ultra-fine collegues, good friends (I also lost a few), refound old friends. But also lost my girl (friend), broke up after financial rows and re-patriating to my hometown Schiedam. Reinventing my life, writing my dissertation as a would-be modern monk with no religion (reason: my mother got seriously ill from cancer, after 'doctors' told her she was cured, but later promised her she would die within 6 months in 1989). I wrote the thing/ the book(let) in about 4 months (one is supposed to spend at least 4 years writing a dissertation) because I wanted her (my mother) to see me graduate finally. She did see it in 1989 and died in 1992, so the doctors were again proven wrong. I met my wife (am currently married to her for the last 17+ years). She definitely is not chinese, is blond, thus was approved by my father (this is the only thing I am sorry about concerning her).

With the last (between quotes/hooks) remark I find myself back in the 50s. Honour thy parents. Please them during all of your life. If I did not love my wife so much I would divorce her THIS MINUTE for this reason.

Greets (to be continued)