A German Youth
Grown up in Germany in the 1960s and 1970s
With the distance from home and the new beginning I've actively tried to find some new friends In secondary school. It did not quite work out to find 'true' friends but at least I've tried to put some steps out of the shadows of a broken family. I was still very cautious not to be trapped in false hopes and to give up my own opinion about what might be right and wrong. I did neither start drinking nor did something I thought would have serious consequences. I've tried to be responsible to myself and optimistic that one day I could brake free...
Growing up alone 'without parents' had many disadvantage and uncertainties; it took many trials and errors to cover the mistakes of my irresponsible parents. As my beard was growing into a first fluffy mustache I've tried to shave it by myself. I used my father's cream, brush and razor and the result was - terrible. I cut myself several times but I took them as scarves of a teenager fighting alone with a never present father.
Yes, a teenager should find his or her own way into society but it would be much easier if you don't have to do it all by yourself. My father was in charge to earn money, my mother in charge to spend money, nothing more. I don't remember that my mother ever gave me ever a hug, ever discussed anything or ever cared about me other than out of curiosity which she was excited to share immediately with her circle of friends.
A great subject of discussion was always my haircut. As I went to an Italian barber by myself, she found fault in whatever I've returned. I think it was not because of the haircut itself but she wanted to be in charge - her whole life. It might be part of lost youth without a father who was last seen during the Russian campaign, Operation Barbarossa, which was the code name of the Axis invasion of the Soviet Union on 22 June 1941. It is difficult to understand what's going on in the human mind or how different people deal with losses...
From young I've tried to earn some money. My mother knew the caretaker of the school and, as my sister, I started to clean up in my former elementary school during the first days of holidays. It was a work of one week and paid very well for a 14 year old boy. As soon I've got the money I put in in my 'saving book'. A neighbor living on the 2nd floor delivered a paper once a week. As he grew older he gave me his route. To send the commercial newspaper I've spend three hours every Wednesday afternoon. The advantage of a confirmation in church is that relatives send you presents. As I've also saved some money by myself my parents agreed that I could buy a small 50cc motorcycle.
This was the time when I've smelled true freedom for the first time. When my parents fought over nonsense I just jumped on my motorcycle and rode away. I didn't know anything about the movie 'Easy Rider' but I surely felt the same. In the beginning I rode with my friends but later mostly by myself. I could start and stop whenever I wanted, could eat whatever I wished and discovered many new routes on my own. I rode even during rain and snow, weather did not matter to me at all!
In the 1970s developed the disco music with something known as a synthesizer, 'an electronic musical instrument that generates electric signals that are converted to sound'. This created a new generation not only a musicians who did not even have to sing by themselves but also listeners who were open for simple dance beats. The Europeans had been very creative, the German producer Frank Farian formed Boney M, the Italian Giorgio Moroder produced Donna Summer, there was Dutch, French and even Spanish disco music.
The music was simple and the texts seemed to be written by a 3 year old. One example:
She is disco
(Ottowan D.I.S.C.O.)
Not far from home we had a dance school teaching classical dance. Saturday evenings they had a disco for members. My friends learned classical dance and 'somehow' got me into the club. I was not very comfortable there because the music, which was not my taste and I even more disliked the people. They were, in my opinion, fake. From hair to clothes, from actions to behaviors it all seemed more a masquerade than a real pleasure. Each time I had to leave early because of a 'rule' of my mother; a rule which I was actually real glad about.
The rage was a new ice skating hall. Sometimes we just hang out. I was not very fond of the sport so we mostly watched others. Once a nice girl came along with a dog. While my friend was interested in her I very interested in the dog. She told me it's her friend's and she just walked it for her. So we talked about the dog and somehow I liked her very much. She was the kind of 'companion', a real friend without overdone make-up or anything artificial. A friend who would 'steal horses' with you, a trustworthy and down to earth girl. We've met later without the dog, had some nice conversation, danced together and occasional send her home with my small motorcycle, she holding me very tight. One Saturday evening I've got my first kiss in front of her door, a kiss I will never forget...
(to be continued)
Growing up alone 'without parents' had many disadvantage and uncertainties; it took many trials and errors to cover the mistakes of my irresponsible parents. As my beard was growing into a first fluffy mustache I've tried to shave it by myself. I used my father's cream, brush and razor and the result was - terrible. I cut myself several times but I took them as scarves of a teenager fighting alone with a never present father.
Yes, a teenager should find his or her own way into society but it would be much easier if you don't have to do it all by yourself. My father was in charge to earn money, my mother in charge to spend money, nothing more. I don't remember that my mother ever gave me ever a hug, ever discussed anything or ever cared about me other than out of curiosity which she was excited to share immediately with her circle of friends.
A great subject of discussion was always my haircut. As I went to an Italian barber by myself, she found fault in whatever I've returned. I think it was not because of the haircut itself but she wanted to be in charge - her whole life. It might be part of lost youth without a father who was last seen during the Russian campaign, Operation Barbarossa, which was the code name of the Axis invasion of the Soviet Union on 22 June 1941. It is difficult to understand what's going on in the human mind or how different people deal with losses...
From young I've tried to earn some money. My mother knew the caretaker of the school and, as my sister, I started to clean up in my former elementary school during the first days of holidays. It was a work of one week and paid very well for a 14 year old boy. As soon I've got the money I put in in my 'saving book'. A neighbor living on the 2nd floor delivered a paper once a week. As he grew older he gave me his route. To send the commercial newspaper I've spend three hours every Wednesday afternoon. The advantage of a confirmation in church is that relatives send you presents. As I've also saved some money by myself my parents agreed that I could buy a small 50cc motorcycle.
This was the time when I've smelled true freedom for the first time. When my parents fought over nonsense I just jumped on my motorcycle and rode away. I didn't know anything about the movie 'Easy Rider' but I surely felt the same. In the beginning I rode with my friends but later mostly by myself. I could start and stop whenever I wanted, could eat whatever I wished and discovered many new routes on my own. I rode even during rain and snow, weather did not matter to me at all!
 |
Rest
on a motorcycle tour
|
The music was simple and the texts seemed to be written by a 3 year old. One example:
D.I.S.C.O
[Repeat: x 3]
She is disco
She
is D delirious
She is I incredible
She is S superficial
She is see complicated
She is O oh, oh, oh
She is I incredible
She is S superficial
She is see complicated
She is O oh, oh, oh
(Ottowan D.I.S.C.O.)
The rage was a new ice skating hall. Sometimes we just hang out. I was not very fond of the sport so we mostly watched others. Once a nice girl came along with a dog. While my friend was interested in her I very interested in the dog. She told me it's her friend's and she just walked it for her. So we talked about the dog and somehow I liked her very much. She was the kind of 'companion', a real friend without overdone make-up or anything artificial. A friend who would 'steal horses' with you, a trustworthy and down to earth girl. We've met later without the dog, had some nice conversation, danced together and occasional send her home with my small motorcycle, she holding me very tight. One Saturday evening I've got my first kiss in front of her door, a kiss I will never forget...
(to be continued)
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