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| See "People are Strange" video |
The world was in chaos. Death, drugs, unrest and rock ‘n’ roll led the news. Its conflicted energy invaded my preteen self-centric fantasy and hung eerily in the void between me and the greater reality. Waking up to it was no longer an option; I was awakened with a jolt. In 1968, my world came undone.
Spring sprung as usual with its life-brimming excitement. My friends and I began crafting our innocent tomfoolery, welcoming a new season of dance moves, music and mischief. But then…
My dad sold his radio station, the house, the horse and all. He told us to pack up, we were moving to Cape Cod. Amid the packing materials, a detailed itinerary of an around-the-world journey appeared. It was then I knew; we’d never be coming back home. My dad dropped out; and my mom and their four confused teenage girls followed, reluctantly. His behavior was “anti-social,” breaking the strict mores of his peers, he was strange. But it was the 60s and dad’s ruled. 
What did American teeny-boppers care about exotic travel? All we wanted was to hang out with friends, boyfriends, and the ever-changing happenings of our generation. We didn’t want to miss a thing. Forced to abandon my comfortable fantasy, I was conflicted by the turmoil in my family and the world at large. 
