January 22, 2005
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Chapter 8 – Flower Children (cont.)
(For previous chapters see sidebar)As 1966 ended, there was a growing rumbling of a new energy come to replace the old. On the political landscape that year, the Black Panthers were organizing in Oakland, Cesar Chavez had created the United Farm Workers, and Reagan was elected governor. The Vietnam War was still in its infancy but 200,000 U.S. troops had been committed that year and the anti-war movement was underway. Simultaneous with the militant protest energy was the “peace and love” stance taken by a growing number of young people who seemed to be converging on San Francisco. And a new drug had hit the streets that would create a whole psychedelic framework for what followed. As for me, trolling along still on the very edge of this stream, it took awhile for the ripples to reach me, but in that last month of the year with some trepidation I “dropped acid.” This was the first batch of synthesized crystal LSD manufactured by the infamous Owsley Stanley and distributed that year for the first time. It was being talked about a lot though people were much more careful about taking it in the beginning than they were later on, making sure they weren’t alone, planning what to do, considering it a spiritual experience. I remember that I went out that night for a walk down the street and was enchanted by the buses and trolleys. It all seemed metaphysical, magical, scary,innocent, out of control. I had very mixed feelings about it. In October it had become illegal in California, but I don’t believe I was aware of that at the time. Word was starting to arrive in my world that the place to be was further west in a low-rent subdivision of the city. The terms “flower children” and “hippie” had been coined the year before, and it seemed I had just stepped across an invisible line and become one of them.
Deep Thought: “I think a new, different kind of bowling should be “carpet bowling.” It’s just like regular bowling, only the lanes are carpet instead of wood. I don’t know why we should do this, but my God, we’ve got to try something!”
Today I am grateful for: Leopardskin pillbox hats
Guess the Movie: “When you pull on that jersey, the name on the front is a hell of alot more important than the one on the back.” Answer: Miracle, 2004.
Inaugural Protests in Many Cities (including two in my state – see proof here)
End of Day: Cripes, forgot to sign out for the second time in a row. Granddaughter overnight.
Comments (9)
“it seemed I had just stepped across an invisible line and become one of them.” — I love this sentence. It fits perfectly with what you are dicussing.
By virtue of having older siblings, I was close to this era, but could never quite grasp it. Always a fristration for those of us sort of left “tween” Boomer and Gen X. The edge toward excitement comes across here, not this instantaneous leap that the media always pretends when it “discovers” something, but society simply starting to slip the shackles of “post-war” life. And there you were, at the epicenter.
And I’ve never seen that movie, but is that quote a Herb Brooks – USA hockey line? Oops. Don’t answer, that’s probably a clue.
Clue it is.
Yes, it was kind of like if the Haight-Ashbury and all it represented was an entity say like a big red dust cloud, then the further you got away from the center you would find smaller and smaller pieces of red dust laying around your house. But once you saw it, you had to follow the trail.
I remember the psychedelic days. We lived in Wyoming at the time and traveled in a Volkswagen.
Now that’s a story I’d love to hear – Wyoming – who knew?
A week or so ago, I bought two sheets at the outlet store in Lincoln City, white with psychelic daisies on them, very retro to the late 60′s. I made shower and window curtains out of them, but it so took me back to college. I thought the 20 something girls that share my house would enjoy them, and they do. When my kids look at my wedding pictures, they label us “hippies” but I told them everyone was a hippie in 1975. It was a little frightening how quickly the drug culture descended on us in those years.
Did life have more meaning back then? I had loved the freeing effect of drugs–it took me away to a better place. So earnestly protesting–feeling a revolution. A chance to free yourself from entrapments. Gypsy, wanderlust and love.
You were/are beautiful, such a lovely child. Keep sharing.
I tell my kids and the young folks I know that I was a hippy back then. But I wasn’t. I was more of a wanna-be. Or a Dharma Bum.
I love how you so seeingly effortlessly, “it seemed I had just stepped across an invisible line and become one of them,” meld your life at the time into the larger social forces, placing yourself in a historical context that is also defining part of who you are while still maintaining your identity as an individual making individual decisions…I’m probably not making much sense…but it’s a talent, to be able to do this. xo