From P. J. O'Rourke's "The Unthinking Man's Guide to Conservatism":

...my life would have gone along perfectly well, politically speaking, if it hadn't been for girls. I found them interesting. They found me less so. On my first weekend at college I was walking down an alley that had a bar on either side. Each bar had a patio full of students. The girls on one patio were very attractive, their sweaters well-filled, their pleated skirts worn daringly above the knee, their blond hair styled in what was called a 'sorority flip.' They sipped demurely from beer mugs decorated with Greek letters.

But I wasn't athletic or handsome or a Sigma Chi legacy. And I had a feeling that, even if I were, getting such girls into bed would involve attendance at mixers and dances, romantic chat-up, fumbling under coats in the shrubbery while a house mother tsked out a window, bestowal of one's fraternity 'pin' or even an engagement ring, and lots of talk about 'our future.'

The girls on the other patio were fetching as well, in their black leotards and peasant blouses, denim skirts and sandals. Their long, dark hair was ironed straight. They strummed guitars, smoked unfiltered cigarettes, and drank beer straight from the bottle. I thought, "I'll bet those girls do it."

They did. I went home at Christmas break with my hair grown long, wearing a blue-jean jacket with a big red fist emblazoned on the back. My grandmother said, 'Pat, I'm worried about you. Are you becoming a Demoncrat?'

'Grandma!' I said. 'Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon are both fascist pigs! Of course I'm not a Democrat! I'm a Communist!'

'At least you're not a Democrat,' said Grandma.