Mine’s a zappuccino

Mine’s a zappuccino

However much everyone envies the 1960s generation, part of me suspects I would have hated them – because cool, trendy people always annoy and depress me. After a few days of hanging around hippies I would have been practically begging the military to take me to Vietnam. At university I was baffled by the romantic success of a man who could name all the “trip-hop” acts around, spoke with a cool trans-Pacific inflection, knew every happening night club in town… Read on