…as San Francisco often is
So, I guess today was the 30th anniversary of the premiere of Star Wars. No doubt geeks everywhere paused for a moment of reverential silence:)
What gave me pause today was remembering that this summer is the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love. Now, I was only 13 back then and I didn’t participate in the festivities in a full blown manner, but I did manage to get down to The City about five times between late April and mid August, 1967. Generally, travelling the 150+ miles required not a little subterfuge where my parents were concerned. Most of the time the excursions were only for a few hours, but in July several of us spent two days in Hippie Central (thanks to my good friends aunt hosting an “Extra Special Birthday” for him).
No, I never did any drugs during that time and tho I did get a bit of the ever popular free love, my virtue remained technically intact:) The big thrill of going to San Francisco was the utter difference of life on the Haight as opposed to the rest of the world in general and rural Northern California in particular. Of course, as time went by, even a simple country lad such as myself could see that the whole thing was going down the tubes.
But man, what a wild trip it was while it lasted.