He stopped me on the street when he saw my peace sign.

A balding man, puffy as a pillow behind the wheel of his Mercedes.

I thought he wanted to give me hell.

This was during the first Persian Gulf War when people found their flags again.

I jogged wearing a peace sign to piss them off.

But he only pointed at my peace sign and said, "I used to care about things like that when I was young.

"In those days, I thought the peace movement made sense.

"I saw people killing people on National TV and I wanted it to stop.

"Maybe I was naive when I grew my hair long

"Maybe I only liked Bob Dylan because he sounded as bad as I did in the shower.

"Marching in the street seemed to make sense.

"I felt good being part of the brotherhood of man

"I thought it would last forever.

"We all belonged to one big club.

"We all wore the right buttons.

"I didn't even mind being called a communist.

"Then things got violent.

"I don't mean the drubbing by the police

"Or even the murdered civil rights workers

"I mean Chicago.

"Peace people pelting police with stones and curses

"Protesters turning to bomb builders and blowing up banks

"I felt so ashamed

"I was always a "Clean for Gene" man

"Never one for "offing the pigs"

"I didn't even cry over Kent State

"I kept thinking about how heavy the guards' guns must have been

"Even dope and sex got crazy.

"The city became a jungle of junkies and twisted logic.

"Street gangs pistol-whipped little old ladies

"I got scared

"I started liking cops again.

"I moved to the suburbs and bought a two-car garage.

"But that doesn't make me a fascist, does it?

"I mean, I used to care.