Keith Warren
It’s 2024 & the old man looks back at the legacy hippies left behind…
Hippies, chosen ones, flower children, idealistic dreamers, let’s change the world & protest. We’re such good philosophers & just knew we’d figure out what the Moody Blues lyrics meant…
Vocal & visible, kind of hard ta ignore, ya might say…
Drive the point home since we’all audacious & brazen & the world’s just gotta know ta
“Give Peace a Chance!”
It’s 1967’s Summer of Love…1968’s Chicago Democratic convention! Hey, it’s spring 1970,
Kent State vs Nixon…
Got your hippie psychedelic love-ins, your hippie protests…& it’s all about the war in Vietnam…
don’t cha know?
Timothy Leary, high priest sez, “Turn on, tune in, drop out!” & we’all heard & dropped acid & did lotsa drugs & chanted: “Make love, not war!” Plenty of chemicals around, always lotsa press…
Love beads & flower power…très chic hippie bell-bottoms…long hair hippie guys & braless hippie gals. Lotsa psychedelic posters, black lights & acid-rock music & kids named Aura, Star, Raven, Moonbeam & “we’z just doin’ our own thing, baby!”
Old man regrets too late what the hippie philosophy unleashed upon this world…