A fifty year celebration for the “Summer of Love” sped into town and drove away just as quickly. (in a psychedelic VW Bus, perhaps?) Where did it go, man? S of L, I hardly found the time to try and remember you. Oh, that’s right: If I remember you, it means I wasn’t there! Or so they say. I’ll never tell.

I do know that the summer of 1967 will never really go away, as it lives on in our hearts and spirits. (And in the trippie hippie decorating I had so much fun with, I never wanted to take any of it down. Fall calls,y’all.) But the “celebrations” were not what they could
have been. All because of the Man, man.

The original hippie residents of the Haight/Ashbury were pretty much left out of the partay with the cancelation of the SF Summer of Love Festival scheduled for Golden Gate Park. It would have been way groovy. However, the powers that be in SF shut it down for their own gig. It had its moments, mainly the joy-inducing tunes from 60’s artists who performed in a very compact area on a black topped road in GG Park. The Man wants to reign us in. Uh-oh, there were thousands of people packed like sardines
In to a teeny-tiny space-what fun!

Later, I learned from a young hygienist at my dentist’s office that the so-called hippie images projected on the wall of the historic Conservatory of Flowers were designed by techies! Explains why her little daughter became so excited watching images the techies designed swirl by. ”Look Mommy,” she shouted, “Fidget Spinners!”

Blame it on The Man, man. Read my Haight St. Fair post to see how the Man has made it too expensive for most crafters to peddle their wares at this event. I wonder if the Man is responsible for the cancellation of Berkeley’s “Shakedown Street” which was supposed to happen in September. It was a real bummer for many Deadheads, man. It’s the fab tunes that provide heaps of healing joy. We really need it.

And now back to the rest of September!
My darling diva Rosie Colleen said she wanted to have her photo appear in this post. Yeah, right. She fought with her Daddy & moi while we struggled to dress her in fabulous canine threads while plying her with doggy treats. Oh, and she insisted on organic top- shelf gourmet treats, she did. What to do? What to do? Whatever Rosie wants Rosie gets.

She says you bettah like, um, love her photo. She demanded that her Dad post her fave of the dozens of pictures he took. Whew.

Just when I thought that September was the month of meh, I received an unbelievable email from my bro. The subject said “Give Peace a Chance” which surprised me. I was already surprised to learn that he now fancied brown rice, in fact, he ASKS for it. I thought that nothing he could do would surprise me anymore. But was I ever wrong. My bro obviously had quaffed more than a wee nip of an adult beverage. His fave is the margarita. Is it evah. I have NO idea what else he may favor, however, something strange was going on. And who would have encouraged such behavior? He could have been partying with leapin’ leprechauns or surrounded by a bunch of craaaazy gnomes or maybe elves. He swears there was no alcohol imbibed.

Take a look at this totally far-out photo. He looks to be wearing a green shrub on top of his head, along with nature- themed glasses. He resembles a tripped-out Green Man/Father Earth done-up all hippie. Mother Earth could be so lucky! Billy told me it is not real. Like, it’s Snapchat. I’ve heard the name, but this photo looks real to moi. Like real wild, man. Brown rice, peace signs & then he looks like a full- on nature hippie? No alcohol? Nothing at all?

I just don’t believe it. The “Summer of Love” lives on.

Peace, love, joy, laughter & whatevah my bro was drinking…….

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