"These goddamned girls." Vogel shook his head and stared off distractedly for a moment, as if stunned by the very thought. "I swear to God, Pete, you have to hold yourself back. Otherwise, you'd feel so fucking guilty. These girls—today—well, when I was growing up, the big deal was that when you went to college, you could drink when you felt like it. Okay? These girls, they go to college so they can get laid when they feel like it. And who do they want? This is the part that's really pathetic. Do they want nice-looking healthy boys their own age? No. You wanna know who? They want . . . Authority . . . Power . . . Fame . . . Prestige . . . They wanna get laid by the teachers! The teachers go crazy at these places now. You know, when the Movement was going strong, one of the things we tried to do on the campuses was to break down that wall of formality between the faculty and the students, because it was nothing but an instrument of control. But now, Jesus Christ, I wonder. I guess they all want to get laid by their fathers, if you believe Freud, which I don't. You know, this is one thing the women's movement has made no headway with. When a woman reaches forty, her problems are just as big now as they ever were— -- and a guy like me has never had it so good. I'm not so old, but, f'r Chrissake, I've got gray hair—"