Hippies

Last week Daisy, my granddaughter, in the sixth grade, was asked by a friend if I had served in the army. He probably asked because I sometimes wear an old army fatigue cap. Daisy told her friend, “No. He wasn’t in the army. He was a hippie.”

Actually, like most men in my age group, I’d been in the army (universal military training). Af few years later, in 1968, I entered graduate school. Those were the days, right? I’d already sampled peyote and Chuck Berry. Thai stick, LSD and The Holy Modal Rounders came next. I helped swell the march on Washington to end a war. But my wife and I never considered ourselves hippies, who were okay but insufficiently versed in radical political theory. And that’s the truth.

(Note: my wife objects and claims she was a hippie.)

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