Love is all you need, man.
It was a long, strange trip…
Sometimes it ended badly. That’s why The Man was around, to set things straight:
That freaked me out, man!
Then we’d write a song about it.
I’d like to be a hippy, but I can’t afford it. I have to get back to work.
I wish I brought deodorant. And Febreze.
It’s smelly In this thread.
Inscense don’t cover B.O.
But…the wonderful smell of a full pound of Columbian weed, spread out on a Hendrix album cover, ready for division into dime bags…Hand me those Zig Zag rolling papers!
And light some incense. It covers everything!
Go teach at an art college. SO many wannabe-hippies…
…that I just have to rant.
They’ve got the fashions and the speech patterns down. They’re trading vintage cassettes of Dead concerts, and sneaking joints, and painting Mom’s old mini-van to take to a Phish concert.
But it doesn’t cost them anything. No one’s trying to ship them off to a Vietnam jungle, no one’s shooting them for having long hair. No cops are clubbing them just for being “a college liberal” (my friend Matt still walks with a cane).
But, hey, the Neo-Hippie Kids are having a blast. So I don’t rant at them out loud. And yeah, I might be nostalgic for the camaraderie at the Jesus Freak commune (and the acoustic jams and Chucko’s really good shit). And a little jealous that I can’t paint Mr. Natural on an old school bus and take off for Burning Man…
I don’t know if this qualifies, but I was there for the Democratic Convention Riot in Chicago in 1968. I missed Woodstock a couple of weeks earlier because my ride insisted on my share of the gas money in advance.
After missing the ride to Woodstock, a friend and I bought an old Ford Falcon for $20.00 and a case of beer. We drove it to Chicago and almost all the way home. We abandoned it in a small town in Iowa called Beebeetown when it quit running and hitchhiked the rest of the way home. The Sixties were a lot if fun.
@LH75 , you’re the real deal.
I just ordered me some bell bottom jeans.
I have the tie-dye shirts.
I’m gonna freak the lil’wrekker out.
And get some patchouli oil.
You mean just we know it?
Sounds like lumpy gravy to me.
No, man, that’s Wavy Gravy.
I’ve always suspected Granny Hawkins was a closet Hippy. I’ll bet them pits is hairy as a Bigfoot!
Let me tell you how the cow eats cabbage!
And the future’s been seen as men try to realize the simple secret of the note in us all.
What happened to the truth? What happened to the dream? What happened to all that lovely hippie shit?
–Pete Townshend
Duuuuuuuuuude!
Got the bell-bottom jeans, but I need a proper [shirt](https://wide collar 70s shirt paisley print), preferably in powder blue. A pair of powder blue cords would be nice. Then I would be dressed in my favorite outfit when I was 7.
And I have the Birks.
Too poor for birks. Homemade sandals(jesus boots) made of tire tread and leather.
I’d trade all of my tomorrows for a single yesterday, to be holding Bobby’s body next to mine…