I wish I could at least say this was the first time I tried and failed to be a mod. Instead, I’ve proven that even personal histories unfold as tragedy and then repeat themselves as farce.
I have no experience being an English teenager in the 1960s, and yet for the second time in my life, for reasons at once practical and mysterious, I find myself trying to emulate one. As with all my half-ass schemes towards self-improvement, the only lesson I’ve learned so far is the one that’s been painfully obvious all along: I am a dork.