It's a timeless phenomenon. I am reminded of Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf, where the narrator, a classical music purist, cannot adapt to the music (and mores) of the Jazz Age -- or can he?
And of my Dad, also a classical purist, who HATED the music my brothers and I listened to, which happened to be the classic rock of the 60s and early 70s. He never did get it, thought it all sounded the same.
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Four phrases I have coined that sum up today's hobby:
No consequences.
Stuff trumps all.
The flip is the commoodity.
Animal Farm grading.
Last edited by Peter_Spaeth; 04-28-2021 at 08:10 PM.
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