Corel Painter

This photo intrigues me. It shows my father and I in the street before my grandparents' house, sometime in 1972, most likely before August. I don't know who took the photo. Maybe my mother, or perhaps my grandfather.

What intrigues me is how much I look like my father here. This is one photo where I look very much like him, much more than in any other photo that I have of the two of us together (not many, admittedly).

My father was only 26 in this photo and, according to my mother, very hip. All I can remember is that our house had everything a modern family in the late 1960s, early 1970s should have: walls painted in brown and purple, weirdly shaped lamps, plenty of plants, low seating and tables, and a ton of records and tapes. We also had a dark room. We were hip enough for all of us to wear the latest fashion. See my sweater? In colour that would look like the rainbow. It had every possible colour. And it was handmade, as was very much the fashion in those days.

Of course, I don't remember a single thing from this period. Everything I know is from these few photos and from what my parents have told me over the years. It is, however, a period that influenced me in many ways. I still like Rock 'n' Roll music, I still can "dig" alternative lifestyles, and I'm still more contra authority than is sometimes good for me.

Having started my life in the early 1970s was a good thing with freedom being the norm. My parents brought me up with few restrictions; a hard-won freedom for themselves, and a lucky consequence of the times for me.

Reaching adolescence in the 1980s was difficult with the world being in the dumps and total annihilation just around the corner. Unemployment was rampant as more and more companies were unable to make the jump from outmoded production methods to modern, cheaper and more efficient means of production. Companies were bought up for a song, split up and sold for the biggest returns, while the workers got fired. The threat of nuclear war was very real. The largest demonstrations ever were held in these years, the largest against nuclear war and nuclear weapons. We had tanks rolling through the streets here in Amsterdam in the early 1980s as the squatters' movement turned our world upside down in what was perceived as nearly civil war.

Growing up to be a man in the 1990s was weird with the loss of a common enemy, the internet coming up and the increasing pressure of joining the band wagon of greed. The West was now all powerful; China was still considered a minor threat, the Soviet block no longer existed, and the current flow of Islamic terrorists were still freedom fighters fighting a liberation war in Afghanistan. The internet and personal computers made it into our houses, opening up a wealth of information and opportunities. The new availability of the stock market to private investors (or speculators, as it turned out) made many rich in a short time, pushing others to join this band wagon of greed. It all exploded in our faces.

Becoming a husband and father in the early 2000s is, so far, the best thing as it combines all the previous decades, experiences and lessons learned. And yet, I learn more every day. I wonder how my father felt in the days this photo was taken.

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