Old Hippies

All I know are the wannabe hippies who were too lazy to travel...or were born too late to be real hippies but wanted the free love and the drugs. Most of both in my acquaintance are dead or dysfunctional.

popmuze said:

Anyone here meet this description?
I've been wondering whatever became of all of you.
I'm not talking about new hippies here, or retro hippies, or post modern get dressed up as a hippie on Saturdays.
I'm talking about people born between 1946 and 1952 or so, who went to San Francisco with flowers in their hair or Chicago with picket signs and came back with their heads handed to them. Or got rained on at Woodstock or lived in a commune, etc.
Like, whatever became of all of you?

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Didn't you hear? They sobered up, tuned back in and sold out to the man in the 80's for coke, rock n' roll and mercedes.

A.M. Wildman said:

Didn't you hear? They sobered up, tuned back in and sold out to the man in the 80's for coke, rock n' roll and mercedes.

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Berke Breathed said it first...

lol who? ALthough it's possible I've heard that somewhere before.

I'm just kidding. I remember seeing reading a similar theme in Breathed's "Bloom County" strip back in the late '80s or early '90s. All the hippies had "sold out" and were driving BMW's. Funny stuff.

Ahh yes. Bloom County. Heh, parts of the 80's are still blurry.

So, 'fess up: are you an old hippie? If you tell your story I'll tell mine.

Well, most of the ones I know are commodities traders. But they still listen to the Grateful Dead on weekends.

Well, the fact there is a line of Jerry Garcia ties goes a long way towards proving this, no?

I was in Chicago for the 68 Democratic Convention. I didn't wear any flowers, but I did run light shows for bands in SF for a while in the seventies. I did lots of dope, and it was the pre-AIDS era. Enough said. But I guess I wasn't technically a hippie because I mostly had a job of some sort--punctuated by periods of couch surfing. A group of us made “underground films,” back when there were no video cameras, and editing actually meant physically splicing film on a Moviola. I had long hair, a motorcycle, and a bad case of angst, another thing that separated me from the true hippie.

I did a variety of things as I grew older, including an eight year stint as a police officer, and wrote and published a couple of thrillers based on my experiences.

Hey, this could be an author bio.

Today, I play in a rock band with younger people, write urban fantasy, and run a hotel six months out of the year. I have a ten year old Subaru, a fifteen year old cat, and a girlfriend who’s too good for me. I’ve grown more tolerant of some things and less tolerant of others. It constantly astonishes me how straight, in the old meaning, today’s youth has become.

Kids today have no idea what they missed..

Man, I was a kid in '68.

I was in Chicago for the 68 Democratic Convention. I didn't wear any flowers, but I did run light shows for bands in SF for a while in the seventies.

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My 8th grade US History teacher was an old hippie. He's the best teacher I've ever had. He taught me how to think.

One of my characters is based off of him.

rugcat said:

.... I’ve grown more tolerant of some things and less tolerant of others. It constantly astonishes me how straight, in the old meaning, today’s youth has become....

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I always heard that one reached middle age when one's narrow waist exchanged places with his/her broad mind.

robeiae said:

Well, most of the ones I know are commodities traders. But they still listen to the Grateful Dead on weekends.

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And attend the annual Burning Man festival in the Nevada desert.

I wish

(hey, I'm listening to Bless its Pointed Little Head...does that get me new hippie points?)



my dad has a jerry garcia tie that he has never once worn titled "Stoned Santa". Some work person gave it to him. My parents aren't old enough to have been hippies and their upbringing would have beaten it out of them anyway.

They're still sleeping on my couch! Thanks mom.

Anyone got any extra Depends?

I really, really, want to be one.

But my parents aren't even old enough.

They all moved to Floyd County, Virginia.

My name was shakey!

My first boyfriend was killed in Viet Nam. We were broken up by then but still friends. He had no chance of going to college. His parents were too poor; he was drafted. I always think of that John Fogarty lyric "I aint no senator's son!" His name was Eddie Saenz. Look for him on the wall and tell him I said Hi.

I hitch hiked all over Iowa, Illinois, up and down the Mississippi. I went to school near Chicago so I went to Oldtown and Grant park. I strung beads in a place called Eagle Point Park instead of going to classes. I wore an old ROTC shirt that belonged to a boyfriend. It had peace symbols and herbage embroidered on it. I showed up for lunch w/ my mother at the Country Club in that shirt and an Arlo Guthrie hat. She cried.

My husband was from Hicksville, in Long Island. He wore bleached jeans and a huge, bushy beard. He was on his way to Woodstock but was turned back by the police. While in NY he saw James Taylor in concert. And Bob Dylan. He went to Jr, High w/ Billy Joel. He named our daughter Annie after the John Denver song. He taught in a low income school all of his life because he believed it was the right thing to do.

There was a time I could make a bong out of a beer can! Wine out of a garbage can full of raisins. My own baby food. Some very enticing brownies. My own yogurt with a jar of milk and a heating pad--well, we stopped that foolishness after someone in the next state died of food poisoning. And a skirt out of a pair of jeans. Talk about accomplishments! And when the time came to sober up, I did it and never looked back. If that shit doesn't kill you it will make you stupid and sloppy.

I nursed my babies when nursing was frowned upon by the whole country. Used paper diapers when they came with tape. My baby doctor warned me that I would never get over the baby blues and possibly endanger my baby's health if I nursed. My mother called me a hillbilly. She smoked two packs a day while PG with me. No one saw anything wrong with that! But nursing was dangerous. Sometimes I have to sit back and laugh at the way the world has turned upside down since then. When my first daughter did not want to nurse her baby, she had to fight the establishment, just like I did to be able to nurse! There will always be some a****** to try to do your thinking for you. Don't let it happen.

Last month two of my old roomies and I got together. After nearly 40 years. We had a blast. And a couple of glasses of wine. Talked gardens and old times. We all agreed that it was the best possible time to be young. No regrets. --s6

shakeysix said:

My first boyfriend was killed in Viet Nam. We were broken up by then but still friends. He had no chance of going to college. His parents were too poor; he was drafted. I always think of that John Fogarty lyric "I aint no senator's son!" His name was Eddie Saenz. Look for him on the wall and tell him I said Hi.

I hitch hiked all over Iowa, Illinois, up and down the Mississippi. I went to school near Chicago so I went to Oldtown and Grant park. I strung beads in a place called Eagle Point Park instead of going to classes. I wore an old ROTC shirt that belonged to a boyfriend. It had peace symbols and herbage embroidered on it. I showed up for lunch w/ my mother at the Country Club in that shirt and an Arlo Guthrie hat. She cried.

My husband was from Hicksville, in Long Island. He wore bleached jeans and a huge, bushy beard. He was on his way to Woodstock but was turned back by the police. While in NY he saw James Taylor in concert. And Bob Dylan. He went to Jr, High w/ Billy Joel. He named our daughter Annie after the John Denver song. He taught in a low income school all of his life because he believed it was the right thing to do.

There was a time I could make a bong out of a beer can! Wine out of a garbage can full of raisins. My own baby food. Some very enticing brownies. My own yogurt with a jar of milk and a heating pad--well, we stopped that foolishness after someone in the next state died of food poisoning. And a skirt out of a pair of jeans. Talk about accomplishments! And when the time came to sober up, I did it and never looked back. If that shit doesn't kill you it will make you stupid and sloppy.

I nursed my babies when nursing was frowned upon by the whole country. Used paper diapers when they came with tape. My baby doctor warned me that I would never get over the baby blues and possibly endanger my baby's health if I nursed. My mother called me a hillbilly. She smoked two packs a day while PG with me. No one saw anything wrong with that! But nursing was dangerous. Sometimes I have to sit back and laugh at the way the world has turned upside down since then. When my first daughter did not want to nurse her baby, she had to fight the establishment, just like I did to be able to nurse! There will always be some a****** to try to do your thinking for you. Don't let it happen.

Last month two of my old roomies and I got together. After nearly 40 years. We had a blast. And a couple of glasses of wine. Talked gardens and old times. We all agreed that it was the best possible time to be young. No regrets. --s6

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That was a frickin beautiful post.

Hmm. I was too young to be a hippie, but hitchhiked from Virginia to Florida, made my own yogurt, raised many gardens at many rental houses, breastfed my kids, lived in jeans and t-shirts. Spent a lot of time traveling and sleeping in a van. Wore my hair down past my hips for 20-some years. Went to peace protests, skipped school, had a pair of jeans with a butterfly patch on the bell bottom of one leg, made pants out of skirts. Sewed my own clothes. Watched my cousins, my friends' older brothers (and fathers!) get drafted and killed in Viet Nam. Wore a black arm band after Kent State. That was when I stopped watching TV--couldn't take the casualty figures night after night. That was when I learned not to trust the government. Mine was the generation that experienced racial integration and watched race riots across the US. I got cursed by the black kids in my school (I never figured out why), and got called nigger-lover by the white kids.

Yeah, the 60s were great.