So much has been written about coming of age in the wild '60s, but being a kid in the '70s was its own freaky trip, too: consciousness indelibly stained by the dual disenchantments of Vietnam and Watergate, by the sense that we were sprouting up in the sour aftermath of something turbulent and colossal. I recall lying in bed as a girl wondering whether I would be abducted like Patty Hearst, silently captivated by the idea of normal American kids transformed into terrorists, all of us tinder ready to ignite. For a moment, those FBI Wanted posters of Hearst beamed a message to the world of a generation tilting out of control. But it turned out to be a false alarm, just a final echo of the '60s. Soon Hearst reclaimed her birthright as a harmless, aging debutante, darting back into the spotlight only for the occasional wacky cameo in... More >>>