HippieKid

There are two major contributors to this particular blog entry. The first is an inordinate ammount of Billy Joel, and the second is Radio Paradise. RP is a lovely little radio station where I can bask in the glory of an amazingly eclectic repitoire of my favorite songs, artists, and types of music. On this website, there is a forum called "What was the first concert that you ever went to?" I wrote about my first concert, which was Barenaked Ladies in 2000 on Y2K day. It was amazing. I had the privelege of riding in a limo to and from that show, and for a nine-year old kid, that's some pretty high-end entertainment.

After posting, I went back and read some of the other posts from other users, and I suddenly realized how young I am. I am sixteen years old, and I am hanging out with a bunch of people who were my age in 1970. I read their forum posts, and familiar names jumped out at me. I recognized Tom Petty, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Eric Clapton, B. B. King, The Beatles, The Grateful Dead, etc, and I felt very sad. I realized that I was born four decades too late to actively be involved in things like the original Woodstock, war protests, and Timothy Leary (lol). I am too late to watch some of my favorite music being born into the world, because much of it has been dead and gone for more than 10 years. Some of the artists are still around, but they have either become so drug-addled (Ozzy, Elton John), or they have completely stopped performing. Robert Plant is still wandering around somewhere, but the Grateful Dead will never be the same without Jerry Garcia. That was where the downhill spiral began, anyway. I will never see Jimi Hendrix in concert because he's DEAD. That also applies to John Lennon. They both died before I was even the remotest chance of a possibility.

I wanted to weep, right there as I was reading that forum. i wanted to put my head in my hands and cry for my loss. I feel like some poor, lost time-traveler in this generation of skanky rap music, low to nonexistant integrity, and iPods. iPods are interesting enough, but I would give them up in a New York minute (less, actually) if I could somehow bring back the energy and peace that the sixties and seventies communicate to me.

The closest thing that I have found to a bunch of hippies that are somewhat close to my age are all in Michigan, going to Rainbow Picnics and traveling from far and wide to go to the Gathering every year. The feeling that permeated those picnics was absolutely amazing. Everyone was so respectful towards everyone else; it was person to person. Also, everything was everyone's. We ate off the same plates, the older hippies passed a joint around a circle of 20 some-odd people in it. I watched all of this in awe. I had found this culture where the men and women, black and white, old and young, treated eachother with love instead of hate, respect instead of bland, cold tolerance, and I was home.

I suppose, more even than Ann Arbor, that is where my home is. Those people, those that I have met, those that I will meet in the years to come, and those that I will never meet, hold my heart. Someday, I will go home.

First, though, I am going to buy a short bus and paint it.