Ahhhh, the hippies.
Now, I come from BC and have spent some time in places around the province where hippies are known to thrive - Whistler, Salt Spring Island, Nelson, Creston. I've even been called a hippie myself on occasion. Granted, I own a djembe or two, and used to frequent full moon drum circles back in the day. I wore birkenstocks for at least two solid straight years (with wool socks underneath during the winter season) and still go for long long (longer even than hockey playoff season) periods of time without shaving my legs or armpits. I even used to make picture frames and sell them at Saturday markets, alongside the devil sticks, jars of honey, homemade jewelry and tie-dyed wall hangings. And, in order to spare my poor parents who do read this blog, I am pleading the fifth on discussing any history of marijuana smoking.
But, nothing-oh-nothing, could have prepared me for our walk through the Eugene Saturday Market, located just outside the back door of the hotel. It was as if I'd been catapulted through a timewarp, landing in San Francisco in the late 60's amongst an entire commune of Deadheads, all either trying to make a living by dying clothing, or not trying to make a living at all.
In fact, these Grateful Dead originals are all mostly from California and are the original hippies. When San Francisco began to change, grow and develop, these hippies migrated north to a quieter Oregon to live in peace amongst the trees.
Here's a taste of the Eugene Saturday Market through my eyes.
For the hippie baby in your life...
You totally know she's going for Toby's Tofu Pate.
The younger generation... the back of his jacket says something about his grass being naturally greener. These two REEKED of pot.
Nahhh, not really. It's still tie-dye.
And, for a change....
(I think it's Jerry Garcia himself actually.)
(Yikes. That is the result of the collision of a couple of different worlds right there.)
The one entire corner of the block was devoted to the loiterers and their music. A large drum circle played on through the afternoon....
(And yet another odd combination of style. Look, are you a gang member or are you a hippie? Make up your mind. You can't be both.)
Unfortunately I had to stare straight at this. And had trouble concentrating on the soothing repetition of the drumming.
Ick. I wanted to say "Turn the hell around! Can't you feel your ass crack exposed to the wind? Can't you feel the tightness of your pants HALFWAY down your ass?"
Instead I took a picture and walked away.
And I'm soooo not a Harry Potter fan, but even I recognized a youthful Gandalf when I saw him!
Wow...makes you almost feel high just from the years of fumes blowing through this place, doesn't it??
I don't know about you, but all I can see behind these eyelids is this....