This is a picture of me from 1975, up on a Fourth of July float in the local parade dressed as a little flower, protesting the environmental damage being done to the world, represented by one of my dad's VWs. With the fenders taken off, completely unironically I assume, to make it look 'junky'. Had no sense of anything, that father of mine; he used to serve, quite enthusiastically, on the local Conservation Commission, with no stirring whatsoever of consciousness or conscience, given the 55-gallon barrels of parts cleaner &c. he had rusting out in the yard.
And there I am, doing a job I surely did not volunteer for, with what can only have been a distinctly uncomfortable and crowdy flower headdress, holding a sign saying HELP.
Sums up my childhood quite prettily, doesn't it?
