Then his friend Abbot (a girl, by the way, and 5) overturned his very well-tended apple cart. She said “Abbey Road” was Bad. And in an instant my son was trapped in a huge, frantic, tearful spinout.
And I knew it had started; the inevitable war for status using musical taste. This war was begun in the playground for kids to torture other kids, but very often the war continues deep into adulthood (Pere Ubu vs. the Dead Boys, anybody?). The genius of the attack is that it is violence masquerading as a quest for meritocracy.