Examples:
Mr. Van Dreesen of BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD
Ms. Alordayne Grotke of Disney’s RECESS
(Yes, that is Allyce Beasley.)
Lissener, if you love this accent you should come on over to Vashon Island.
My name is Tish. I just had to say that, since we Tish’s aren’t that common.
What your kid wasnt concieved in America? Learn the language or leave the country already 
If you speak it slowly and loudly it helps
I would call it supercillious.
Hmm… if you’re in Madison, I’m in trouble.
Oh yes, this just described the mom of one of my friends…the insincerity of the whole manner is what’s most grating.
Upon meeting for the first time:
“Hi, I’m Gargoyle, nice to meet you.”
“Ohhhhh myyyyyyy. I am sooooo stunned to finally meeeeet youuuu”
I get grabbed in a full-body hug that goes on far too long
In reality, I could tell right away that my name was immediately forgotten, and I would never (thankfully) become in any way close to her.
You’re much more of a “Monstro” to me. 
Oh yeah! Don’t say OK, you say it Ummmm Kaaaay?
Actually, no, she wasn’t. Neither was I! (I just noticed that since I let my subscription lapse my location isn’t displayed.)
That reminds me of another story about that woman, though, which is similar to Gargoyle’s. When she met my best friend at our wedding party, she gave him the whole insincere “oooooh it’s WOOOOOOONDERFULLLLLL to meeeet yoouuuu” and shook his hand for, I swear, three full minutes, all while regaling him with how woooonnnnderful it was to meet him, and how she’d heard sooooooo much about him, such as the fact that he was my best friend, he was from California, he was my best friend, he was from California, and he was from California. Seriously, that’s all she could have known, but she made it last three minutes.
The funny part was watching my bud’s face. He went from a friendly smile, to an uncomfortable smile, to a forced and uncomfortable smile, to a rictus of terror, to clearly debating to himself whether it would be worth it to chew off his own arm to escape. His discomfort was obvious from thirty feet away, but she did not notice. Or did not care.
I, too, know exactly what you mean. These people speak to everyone as if they are speaking to a bright 2-year-old. Slow, measured, calm, no big words. I think they believe that it sounds enlightened and wise (and perhaps they’ve picked it up from a therapist, or watched too much Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood when they were kids), but I find it infuriating.
As another data point, I find that these same people are often two or three notches overdressed. Scarves and knit hats when it’s 55 out, long sleeves when it’s 90, etc.
But in a weird way, right? Like, a scarf & a knit hat, but no coat.
I know the type…there’s one who is a librarian at my local library. If I have to ask for a book, she gazes at me as though it was the most fascinating request she’s ever had. I’ve always wondered what would happen if I asked her to find me the latest Ann Coulter book.
Well, you could say the same thing about the stereotypically “gay” voice, which seems to cut across generations and geographical boundaries. I always wonder if such things are innate or cultural.
Not to necessarily blame it on the '60’s (as tempting as that is), but could it have something to do with acid trips from years gone by, in which they had a guide who carried on like that, and/or they themselves were serving as the guides for others, who benefitted from those vocal mannerisms and relentless eye contact and hand-holding?
Caveat: pretty much everything I know about acid trip guides is from Flirting With Disaster, so YMMV. 
Well, except that a stereotypically gay voice is specifically feminine; the model for that is obvious.
What’s the model for this insincere concerned tone?
Nope. Don’t blame it on the drugs. The women described are just pushy & too effusive. The OP blames it on their “hippy” background, but some Southern church ladies exhibit the same behavior–with different fashion choices.
Joss Whedon is pretty liberal but one of those women appeared in “Dead Man’s Party”–from the 3rd season of Buffy Vampire Slayer. After having to kill her lover Angel to save the world–just after he regained his soul–Buffy had fled to LA. After she returned, her mother & friends felt a bit of resentment that she’d left, but pretened they were simply glad to see her. So a welcome home gathering turned into a huge party attended by every doofus high school kid in Sunnydale.
And Pat showed up. Floating in dressed in every ethnic cliche, she’d met Buffy’s mom at book club & felt the need to “share” with Buffy just how broken up she’d been. Then she nattered on endlessly about all her classes & activities–was she an aging trust fundie with a really small trust fund? Quite annoying.
She was killed by a zombie, then possessed by a zombie demon. Buffy finally killed her again with a shovel through the eyes. And her Mom & friends were glad that things were back to normal in Sunnydale.
Still–I’d rather be one of “those” woman than be Carol Stream…
(except for the bit about being zombified…)
Oh, damn. I freakin’ hate this movie. In college I (using help from wonderful folks on this board) gave an unexpected 5-minute mini-presentation, complete with notes, demolishing the movie, after our hippy dippy psychology prof showed it to the class, complete with a warning that if we were likely to feel threatened by such a movie we didn’t need to watch it. To her credit, she apologized for having shown it to us and thanked me for the presentation; to her discredit, she hadn’t watched it before showing it to us.
Somehow I missed this.
Thanks again, Carol Stream, for reminding us of what a cunt you are.
Read “People of the Lie” by M. Scott Peck.
Sounds like SOMEbody’s got a case of the Mondays [/sticks out bottom lip in pouty fashon]