Not to many have heard this story, but here it goes. Being called a Hippy always makes me laugh inside a bit. I still remember the first time I was called a Hippy. For me it is memorable and therefore a bit difficult to forget. As a few know I lived a few years out in the sticks, no electricity, running water was a creek out back. Getting a hair cut meant going into town and I hated going into town more than just about anything else.
If I knew we were going into town I would wake up early and sneak out of the house to disappear in the woods all day. Did not go to a friends house cuz I learned from experience I would get caught. It sometimes meant going all day without anything to eat except what I could steal out of the fridge or off a shelf. I had to be quiet because my folks knew what I was up to.
The end result was at times my hair would get fairly long. Back then and up in the Northwest it was considered very long. Well we moved to a small fishing logging community, I suppose the size of Santa Cruz back in the day. Only it lacked the liberal, hippy mind set. I come strolling into school ( I was in Grade School ) with this long hair. Everyone stares at me and razzes me a bit. I figure it is because I am a awesome dude. Little did I know.
Well within the first couple of weeks I am getting into an altercation out on the school grounds with a couple of other kids. They really had know idea what they stepped into, they thought they were tuff being from a blue collar town, but I had been splitting wood and hauling water every day. After a bit this kid backs off points his finger at me and says blah, blah blah you Hippies all think blah blah. It never occurred to me being a hippy was a bad thing. I just figured hippies were long hair folks that could kick some serious ass. So there I was in a new town, fresh from the country, running around being called a hippy and being very proud of the fact that I was a hippy. It was quite some time before I learned about the real hippy culture.
