my father the communist

i was in san francisco this weekend visiting my uc berkeley-bound brother. while window shopping in chinatown, my mother disclosed to me that, as a teen, there was nothing my post-cultural revolution father wanted more than a maoist red cap. as a person who thinks way too much about radicalism and liberationist movements, i always find it interesting how one culture's norms can become another culture's revolution. my father has more in common with american capitalism than with pseudo-marxist college students. he probably just wanted to look cool.