In 1969 I was 12, and my parents took me to Chicago for the weekend there. On Saturday night we went to Old Town to “see the Hippies” and then on to a Steppenwolf concert at the Arie Crown Theater. They had no idea who the band was, a business associate of my father’s got the tickets, and they were never quite the same when we came out of the theater. For that matter neither was I, but for the rest of their lives that hollow, horrified look was never far beneath the surface. It was hilarious.
The real hippie problem, at least according to Chief Wiggum: California Cheeseburgers.
Like many many young people, I experimented with hippies when I was younger. I may have done hippies in college and the occasional festival, but I can’t recall exactly how many or how often. What matters is I have stopped doing hippies and I regret having done quite so many, particularly that last one… Since then, I sought treatment and left hippies behind!
I Remember back in like 1971 I was riding my dirt bike. I was 13 or 14. I was revving the engine like you do and my little brother got upset with me for revving the motor cause “that’s what hippies do”
Is that from something? It should be
Well, I knew that he an addictive personality. He couldn’t go without his TV (and westerns) on that vacation with his dad, Mr. Hobbes.
Of course the irony is many of those derided hippies grew up to become The Establishment.
This topic was automatically closed after 5 days. New replies are no longer allowed.