was quickly taken over by the most radical elements.nBy the mid-60’s, it was clear that what might have startednas high-spirited populist reaction on campus had turnedninto a small-scale civil war between the generations. Demographynonly partly explains what happened. The babynboomers, it is true, were and are a disproportionate share ofnthe population and would have exerted strong pressures onnany society. But if the 50’s restoration had been sound tonbegin with, the center would have held. What went wrong?nIf we had the answers, we could avoid repeating thenmistakes of the Eisenhower years. One mistake was thenattempt to create an unrealistic set of ideals that did notnmatch the American experience. All the cold war rantnabout democracy turned out to mean very little, when thenHungarians took us at our word. All those promises to helpnthe oppressed peoples behind the Iron Curtain might havenmade us feel good at the time, but the hangover had a bitterntaste. For all the talk about moral values, the 50’s was an agenof moralism, not morality. So long as a man was successful,nwe really didn’t care what he was like. That Ike had almostnleft his wife for a younger woman, that Las Vegas was beingntaken over by organized crime, that most Hollywood starsnwent through half a dozen marriages didn’t seem to botherneither the press or the people.nAll the talk about moral degeneracy these days is, atnbest, disingenuous. Of course, we have learned to toleratenthe idea of popular actresses living in sin and bearingnillegitimate children, but how much better would they benfor going through the motions of a civil marriage everyntime they got the itch? Who does more to degrade ournmoral sense, Jessica Lange or Elizabeth Taylor? So longnas we teach our children to idolize “show people,” theynwill grow up worshiping wealth, power, and sex appeal.nHypocrisy may be a necessary evil in any society, but innthe 1950’s we turned it into a first principle. Vice wasnIn the forthcoming issue of Chronicles:nSexual Politickingn”Like their spiritual ancestresses—the Susan B. Anthonys,nCarrie Nations, and Mrs. Grundys—feminists cannotnabide the old Adam. They are desperate to trade innthe beer-swilling, cigar-smoking, street-brawling lout sonimperfectiy designed by the Creator for a new model,nsomeone with Alan Alda’s assertiveness, Tom Brokaw’snbrains, and David Bowie’s masculinity.”n—from “Old Adam, New Eve”nby Thomas FlemingnALSOnGeorge Gilder celebrates Phyllis Schlafly’sndefense of American democracynPhilosopher Carol McMillan looks at motherhoodnand the alternativesnJames J. Thompson Jr. finds out what it was likento be a woman 100 years ago.ntolerable, so long as it was “not in front of the children.”nUnfortunately, the children caught on all too quickly,nand the results were the fulfillment of the most terrifyingnpredictions about the last days, when “the children shallnrise up against their parents.”nFifteen years later, we still don’t know who won. In thennew orthodoxy of Jerry Rubin, Bob Greene, and Esquire,nwe can have it all: 50’s affluence and 60’s fun. We evennprofess a sentimental commitment to the family, so long asnit does not interfere with our getting and spending. Ournchildren might have to grow up, like Harlow’s famousnrhesus monkeys, with wire mother surrogates named ApplenII and Space Invaders. But at the slow rate we’re havingnchildren, the baby boomers will continue to dominate thenscene, age by age, until the end of the century. One thing Incan safely predict: most of us will never grow up. At the agenof 40 some are still, like a physician acquaintance of mine,n”tuning in” to old Hendrix albums and “dropping out” bynmid-afternoon. Others, like a stockbroker friend, are havingnchampagne lunches in restaurants made out of exotic plantsnand antique packing crates. They’re “forty years old andngoing on twenty,” as Jerry Lee Lewis sings, and he ought tonknow.nWe are still counting the casualties of the 1960’s—butnwho ever won a civil war? One thing is clear: the woundsnwill not be completely healed until the last of the babynboomers is laid to rest in an organic landfill site withnnothing but a Bob Dylan album and a thick securitiesnportfolio to leave his only child of a third marriage.nMeantime, Mr. Mellencamp is making an effort to come tongrips with the real America. It is not an America you canndiscover in the pages of Forbes or Rolling Stone. It isn’tnsomething concocted by Walt Disney or the editors of Life,nbut a small town back home in Indiana. Welcome back,nJohn. —Thomas FlemingnMOVING?nLET US KNOW BEFORE YOU GO!nTo assure uninterrupted delivery ofnChronicles, please notify us in advance.nSend change of address on this form withnthe mailing label from your latest issue ofnChronicles to: Subscription Department,nChronicles, P.O. Box 800, Mount Morris,nIllinois 61054.nName_nAddress_nCitynnnState. .Zip_nMAY 1986119n