Narrator: Back there on our seat... the ride home in the dark seat... there it was- the ring I gave to Winnie; the one she was giving back to me. I looked for her on the other bus but I couldn't find her, she was already lost in the crowd. I knew then that the girl next door was gone. And my life would never be the same again.

Narrator: Before my parents were Mom and Dad... they were Norma and Jack. Or, so the story goes. Back then, they didn't have much. So they got by on what they had - each other. Somewhere along the way, though... hearts and flowers gave way to other things. Guess it kinda took 'em by surprise. So, like any couple of their generation... they did what they had to do - they became... parents. Providers.

Narrator: But the thing is, that was all we did. Maybe it was happening too fast. Maybe we wanted to hold on to what we had. Or maybe we both knew there were other things we had to find before we found each other. All we really knew for sure was, as we sat there, looking out over the lights of the town where we had grown up together, it all felt right. It all felt...perfect.

Narrator: But then... something inside me... snapped. From deep inside I felt rage! Not just for me, but for every kid who had ever been picked on... humiliated... bullied. For every kid who'd gone home ashamed. I put every shred of dignity and self-respect I had into that punch. Unfortunately... my aim was bad. Even more unfortunately, Eddie's wasn't. Those next ten minutes were... kinda a blur. Still, as Eddie worked out his deep-seated feelings of inadequacy, I began to realize something. Sooner or later this would be over. And I... would survive.

Narrator: By the middle of junior year, life at my school was becoming... routine. The teachers, the kids, the classes... they were all pretty much predictable. Most of them, anyway. Jeff Billings, the new kid in school. When it came to unpredictable - this guy had the lock. In the short time I'd known the kid, I'd learned this about him - he had brains, a sense of humor... He had... attitude. Yep, in a way, the guy had it all. Including a girlfriend I'd never met. Julie McDermott, the legendary goddess from another town.

Narrator: By the spring of nineteen-seventy-three the women's liberation movement was in full force. Across America, a revolution was in progress, shedding old stereotypes... building new roles. It was a time of raised-consciousnesses and high expectations... a fight for equality and freedom. Women everywhere were facing difficult and complex choices. Take my mother for example. She was a woman of her time. A woman of accomplishments. A woman who was appreciated. Yep, you might say in everything she did, Mom commanded our utmost respect. And whether it was pouring our coffee, buttering our toast, or simply washing our socks... we Arnold men supported her, encouraged her... right up until that day, when...
Norma: I've decided to get a job.

Narrator: By the time you've made it to age sixteen, you pretty much know all there is to know. About history, philosophy - the world. About life. There was virtually no situation you can't handle. Yeah, you're on top of your game - the pinnacle of poise, the essence of cool. No doubt about it - from the right thing to wear, to the right place to sit, to the right person to sit with. At sixteen, you pretty much learned it all. Well, almost all. OK. So there's one subject you're just as dumb about as you ever were. Yeah - love. Like I said, at sixteen - you've learned nothing. Nothing at all.

Narrator: Childhood is a struggle. In struggling to separate ourselves from one another... Wayne and I had also struggled to stay together. In order to break apart, we had to hurt each other. And now... we'd done what we had to do. And the thing is, even today... on nights when I lie in bed, listening to my children in their rooms, breathing next to one another... I wish for them what my parents had wished for my brother and me. I wish for them... what we had.

Narrator: December, nineteen-seventy-two, was a time of change for my family. A time of strange occurrences. Improbable events. And, a fews surprises. After a twenty-year sabbatical in the kitchen... my mother was graduating from State College. We were all pretty proud of her. As for my father... after a half a lifetime at NORCOM... he decided to invest in the future. Well, the future of furniture, anyway.

Narrator: Ever since I could remember, the Coopers' annual barbecue had been the first event of summer. It was a neighborhood tradition, the herald of good times. Japanese lanterns glowed in the dusk. And warm breezes carried the smell of burgers sizzling on the grill, and the sounds of kids having the time of their lives. But maybe the best thing about it was that it happened the first week of summer vacation, one day after the last day of school. It was kind of a solemn moment. Eight months of relentless education were finally erupting in a blast of summer madness.

Narrator: Every American family has its own unique blend of personalities, my family was no exception. Within our four suburban walls we ranged the full spectrum of types. From the flamboyant, to the demure. From the repellant, to the ideal. Somehow, we managed to fit together in a kind of fragile alliance. One for all, and all for one. With one exception: Buster - the family dog.

Narrator: Every culture has its own rites of passage. Ways of marking that leap from childhood... to manhood. Complex rituals... weird dances... acts of courage and survival. It's a tradition as old as civilization. Or... as recent as crabgrass. Fact! In the suburbs... a boy's first steps towards manhood start behind a lawnmower. Still, for me, at sixteen, lawn care had given way to something much, much, more important. The driver's license. The thing that separates the boys... from the men. And so on and so forth. But the truth was, by the spring of tenth grade, it was time to put the mower in mothballs. Forget the crabgrass. Make the jump from two cylinders... to real horsepower.

Narrator: Every four years, our country is gripped by a case of temporary insanity. We call it... the presidential election. It's democracy defined. A chance for politicians who know better... to make promises they can't keep. And come November... it's a chance for us to believe them.

Narrator: Every generation has its idols. Guys who were our heroes. Guys who defined "cool". Guys who drive chicks crazy. My generation produced a ton of these guys. The Beatles... Mick Jagger... and, of course... yours truly. OK, so I didn't have a Top 10 single. I did have the one thing every teen idol needs. A fan. Debbie Pfeiffer, Paul's little sister. Debbie was a seventh-grader now, and, to put it mildly, she thought I put the moon in the sky... and told the stars to shine. It was kinda flattering, I guess. It was also kinda... nauseating. And the worst thing was... no matter how hard I tried to ignore it... it... wouldn't ignore me. Not to seem insensitive, but a man of my years had more important things to think about, than moony little girls.

Narrator: Every kid needs a hero - everybody knows that. They teach us about courage, about ideals... about life. Sometimes heroes are easy to spot. But sometimes... they turn up in unlikely places.