Do you remember riding your bike down a hill at forty miles an hour with no helmet, no knee pads and no brakes? It was a time of innocence, when all you needed to know you learned at summer camp, when television was still in black and white and you only received three channels. You could play baseball on any open field you could find, catch the Red Sox on the radio on a cool summer night, leave your front door unlocked, sled down any open hill on a snow day and still have a fight in the school yard without the police getting involved. A driveras license meant freedom, and your dateas father still gave you funny looks. It was even humorous if you were the middle child in a working-class New England town, with social workers as parents. At least until the world turned upside down with assassinations, riots and Vietnam.
评价“If the Log Rolls Over”