Life on the Road

One day my best friend and I are sitting around the pad of our mutual bud, and he's telling me about all of his road adventures, hitchiking around the country, which was really fairly safe back then. He told me that he knew of these hot springs on some Indian reservation in New Mexico, and that he really wanted me to see them. Sounded great, I said, but I'm not going without the refrigerator.

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He talked me into it anyway, so I loaded a backpack with stuff, and we were off hitch hiking to the Jemez Hot Springs.

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It was fun until we got from L.A. to Bakersfield. We arrived about 9:00 PM and found about a dozen or so other hitch hikers stranded there at the onramp to the freeway. We bought some wine, smoked a little pot, traded stories about where we were from and were we were going. The only short haired guy was AWOL, but he was just like anyone else there, and we felt for him.

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The next morning it was unGodly hot. It was about 115 degrees and we were at the end of this long line of hitch hikers who began to look more and more like lobsters as the hours went by. One of the reasons that it was so hard to get a ride was that, well, when a car would stop all these people would run towards it, trying to escape the hell they'd found themselves in.

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But my friend and I got really, really lucky. Some guy in a big motor home stopped at the end of the line and gave us a ride straight through to Albuquerque, which was only about 60 miles from our destination. On the way he let us drive so that he could take a nap, and he even bought us lunch at a coffee shop along the way.

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From there we hitched up into the mountains with ease, then stopped at the General Store to pick up some food for the campout. Along the way hippies were stopping their cars to hand us a cold beer or a joint as we made the hike up to the trail that lead to the springs.

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It was a beautiful hike, and we were warmly received by the dozen or so hippie types who were camping there next to the springs. One older guy, Richard, had just taken to living there. He managed to prove his worth to people who had food by being an expert gatherer of firewood.

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Everybody soaked in the hot springs naked, which was all just fine, except for the day an older lady turned the corner and saw us there and went off screaming like she'd never seen a naked body before. Really. Just like the movies.

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I brought my copy of Be Here Now, and was feeling pretty spiritual about the trip anyway. But one night we were all sitting around the fire and two hippy guys come out of the woods and really blew my mind.

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First they told us how they had been lost and hungry for a long time, but how they ran across some cactus with edible fruit, and how they were crying in thankfulness as the cactus juice dripped down their faces. The one of them came up to me and recited a long biblical verse from memory and from deep in his heart somewhere, "Go ye into the mountains and beat your swords into plowshares" or something like that. And everybody was just stunned silent.

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We had a great time partying at the springs, had a feast in a cave and shared the rest of our food with everyone there so that we wouldn't have to carry it down the trail, said our goodbyes and began the long trek homewards. Using up our food wasn't the wisest move. We were going hungry, but my friend knew how to ask restaurants at closing for whatever they might be throwing away. The KFC didn't have any leftovers, but the manager was really super cool, and bought us each a three piece dinner. We were so hungry that we didn't leave anything for the ants.

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My friend had cut himself on a rock back at the springs and ended up with an infection which was turning into blood poisoning, and so we tried to flag down some cars in Kingman Arizona, but they wouldn't stop. My friend was hurting pretty badly by then, and so I went and knocked on someones door about 10: PM, and we were met at the door with a shotgun. I explained about my friend, and the owner of the house turned out to be a cop. So he made a call and a squad car transported us to the hospital so my friend could get medical attention.

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Then my old sneakers finally gave out from all the hiking and walking, which wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't so hot. But my friend had an extra pair of moccasins with him that he'd made along the road somewhere, and they worked pretty well, so we kept on truckin'.

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We got good rides coming back into the L.A. area, and man was I glad to be back home where the refrigerator was still waiting. Was quite a trip, and I got to see first hand that life on the road was exciting but not without some sacrifice. It could be done, and something about doing it made me feel that much more capable in life. And I learned all of that in just over two weeks.

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That was the thing in those days, there were so many beautiful people everywhere you went. People were kind. They were hopeful. They were generous. They were caring. And they were prospeous times, people on the road would give you rides, food and money just to help out another human being. Those were great old times, and I think that America needs to go find itself again.

Love and Peace

People these days sometimes wonder what all that peace and love stuff was all about, as if peace and love were just a couple of words that didn't really mean anything anymore. This is what it was, that everybody everywhere needs food, shelter, and happiness. When there is peace, and when there is love, there is more food, shelter and happiness for everyone. And that's what all good people want for this world. Of all the things in this world, there is no shame at all in love.

Love one another, even as I have loved you.

Jesus of Nazareth

Easy Rider

Of course, Easy Rider was a great and popular counter culture film of the era. And here I am, with some friends of mine smoking a doob in Santa Monica and listening to the album In the Court of the Crimson King, which is like all one long song... I saw my first pot plant there growing by the front door.

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And some long hair bearded guy knocks at the screen door and asks if Michael's around. Our host said, "No, Michael lives in the back house." The guy peers thrhough the screen door and says, "Can I have a token?" And our host said "Fer sure! Come on in." And while we finished off the number we were tokin', the long haired bearded guy tells us that he just got back from Peru.

Then he said that he had to split, thanked us for the smoke, and boogied on out the door.

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We all looked at each other silently for a moment and then my friend says, "Was that Dennis Hopper?" And we were all like, yeah, man, that was Dennis Hopper. Hopper played Billy the Kid

in the movie Easy Rider, as if everybody didn't know.

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So, later on we decide to head on to the back house where some people had grown the best freaking pot I ever had in my life. Dennis had already left, and so I sat at this table in the kitchen while somebody rolled a joint of this homegrown dynamite. Let me tell you, by the time we finished it I thought that I was going to pass out, so I had to sit there for awhile and adjust. Just try, you know, to maintain.

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So, finallyI notice that everybody went out into the backyard but me, and I'm looking just too wasted and pathetic sitting there by my lonesome just because I thought that if I stood up I'd pass out and really look like a light weight. Finally I got up the nerve to try out my legs and went outside. And everybody's laughing and having a good time, and there's this beautiful chic sunbathing butt naked in front of everybody. The thing is, I'm only 15 years old right then, and just totally ripped, man. And I'm trying to be cool, but, well, I must not have been that cool, or somebody thought, hey, there's a kid here or something, 'cause she got this disturbed look and put on her towel. She was getting ready to perform in Oh Calcutta! which has a nude scene.

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And all I could do is wonder why it was that people were so ashamed of the clothes that God had given them. Must be because of the dirty old perverts, I thought.

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Star People

So, one night we're all tripping on some really good LSD and this chic says to me, out of nowhere she just says, "I feel like one day they're going to come and take us up into space!" "Everybody?" I asked. She shrugged and said, "Whoever wants to go, I guess." And that just really blew my mind, man. I had to think about that for quite a while.

That the birds of worry fly overhead, this you cannot prevent.

That they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent.

Lao Tzu

Hippy Recipes

Hip Recipes

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There Has to Be a Morning After

Granola and Fruit of your choice. Milk.

~~~oOo~~~

Struggling Artist

Spaghetti noodles, Ketchup.

~~~oOo~~~

We Got Food Stamps

Use favorite quiche recipe, top with assorted vegetables of your choice.

~~~oOo~~~

Love Animals Don't Eat Them

A really cool restaurant in Laguna Beach in the sixties conveniently located near the Laguna Hotel where Krishna people served vegetarian food for a donation of any kind. Served with complimentary Krishna literature.

~~~oOo~~~

Do you want a love potion?

I can show you how to be loved,

without spells,

without potions,

without any witches magic.

If you want to be loved,

then love.

Lao Tzu

The sixties began an era when music became politically relevent.

It all became about social conscience.

Ask The Hippy Guy

Ask The Hippy Guy

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If you ever really wanted to know what the hippies were really like, or what the sixties were like in Southern California, here's your chance.

Simply post your question to comments.

And if you don't, I'll be forced to ask my own.

I'd love to hear from folks.

One joy dispels a thousand cares.

Lao Tzu

Deja Vu

It's like Deja Vu all over again. ~ End the war! ~ Impeach! Impeach! The whole world's watching! ~ No more cover ups! ~ Free the Press! Free the Press!

So, the thing is, what is a hippy anyways? A hippy is somebody who isn't fooled by the establishment, man. Somebody who thinks for themselves and knows that materialists and militarists are only in it for the money, and that has little to do with true humanity. The only rule to being a hippy, really, is that you're not uncool. Uncool is like, you know, to be a jerk. Now telling jerks where to get off is cool. Acepting that everybody is different and that's ok, so long as they're not uncool. That's about it. The rest is all about counter culture. Hippies were big on creating a world that made sense to them. Living in a world that could destroy itself at anytime was insane. Listening to so much establishment propaganda everywhere you went was insane. War is insane. The government is insane. America was, well, just insane. Once all of that became clear there was a turning away by a whole generation looking for better, which meant different ways. We simply wanted to put as much distance between ourselves and the insane people and try to find sanity again. For a lot of us that meant back to nature. Nature is sanity. It also meant that a lot of people began to find new drugs of choice, which were, let's face it, better drugs than alchohol, and, well, better drugs than kids use today. We didn't sniff fumes, man. Eeeyuh! Everybody knew that speed kills. Throughout all of my sixties drug use, I met thousands of drug users, only two of which were addicts. Nobody wanted to hang out with those loosers. They'd rip you off, man! No, no. We accepted pot as a sacrament. Not that you had to smoke it to be cool, you just had to be cool about smoking it. Everybody realized that the established Powers That Be were lying their butts off about pot. And it was like, um, breaking bread. Something to do. And better still, you wouldn't fall on your face or hit anybody or anything like what happens with that whiskey stuff. Not really likely to vomit or get hungover from smoking pot, either. Back in the day we did a lot of psychedelics. Man, we tried everything. There were more varieties of LSD than could be counted, mushrooms, peyote, mescaline... just about every kind of psychedelic imaginable. With regard to drugs the wisdom of the day was that if it was God/nature made it was probably really cool, but if it was man made be extra careful. Heroin, coke, speed, pills, booze. All bad drugs. Bad for you! Acid? Well, be cool about it, man. Heavy stuff. Pot? Get real? My Grandmother smoked the stuff, but she called it Asthmador. Politically, of course, we didn't just lean left, we leaned hard left. Hard left because there seemed to be some trace of sanity remaining on that side of things. Everything else was BS. Just a few thoughts of the moment.

Hey Everybody, Just was hangin' out and decided, you know, I need to do a blog.

Some young gang type told me, "When I think of hippies I all I can think of is drugs".Psh! The kind of drugs you do, man, it's a wonder that you can still think at all.

~

Some other conservative pinhead told me, "Hippies. Yeah. Love, peace, dope." Psh! Well there are at least four things about which you're clueless, man. You know, some of us grow hair on the *outside* of our heads.

~

Well, I'm here to keep the faith, baby! To keep the dream alive! We won in the sixties. Nixon was out, the Vietnam war was over. And we're winning again. But this time, lets not cheese out by becoming a "me" generation again, ok?

~ Alright, gotta boogie....

~

Laters,

The Hippie Guy