If your child isn’t that sound, you have few choices. You can’t leave them with your parents because the chances are that they won’t relate to them. No, you’ll have to become less sound to meet them on their level or bully them into resignation. A few years ago parents and children would clash and knock shades of shite out of each other because they had different tastes and values. Tension found in clothes, music and social morals got diffused by a secret mutual respect; the other side stood for something. That’s all gone t’fuck. Gone is the rainbow child;make way for the vanilla children.
And what do Flappers, Teddy Boys, Mods, Skinheads, Hippies, Punks, Goths, Glam Rockers, Grungers and Ravers all have in common? They were all a pain in the arse who ruined a good night’s sleep. Born in ’88 I missed all this and had to settle for the tail end of a goth thing and a bit of floral, too old for Emo, we may have missed the last street subculture before things went webby.
We’re already rebelling less, drinking less and having less sex. So, on actual reflection, me and my vanilla children will be best mates. We’re going to have matching vintage denim and complete crossword apps and no one will know who’s the mother and who’s the child and when someone coughs at the table we’ll all look up from our phones and realise it was another false alarm and continue to watch a video about the new Dyson lawnmower that instead of making sound, actually absorbs sound so now we don’t even know when it’s summer anymore.
And then there’s the grandchildren. They’ll be born transparent like a tad-pole but kind of stay that way so no one can tell what they’re about and they’re impossible to find during a parade and they’ll look back on their vanilla ancestors and think that they must have felt real connection.