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If I thought about it, it seemed clear that elements of my generation had always been singled out for disapproval, going back to the birth of rock and roll and the invention of the teenager. The first wave of disapproval had been at “juvenile delinquents” (who scared me, actually. Not that I actually saw any; most of them were on television or in movie trailers.) There was a lot of brouhaha over gangs and violence (and, predictably, a plethora of films about sexually loose, scantily clad girl-gangs, which, in the Fifties, might mean occasionally exposing a bra).
But the subjects of the first wave of disapproval have become so assimilated that the once fearsome juvenile delinquent was reinvented as the adorable Fonzie in Happy Days. FROM AN AMERICAN STORY
