Lessons on Being a Grown Up from… Vincent Price?

The Seventies was a lousy time to be a kid. Oh, sure, it wasn’t all bad:

We didn’t wear bike helmets. Our parents made us play outside (“Get out of this house, and don’t come back ’til the street lights come on!”). We “bounced around in the back of the station wagon.” No one was allergic to peanut butter, or very much else. Evel Knievel was a role model.

But something freakish, sinister and incomprehensible was always being talked about, over at the Me Decade’s grown ups’ table...

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