Parallel Universes: Hippies + Hillbillies
Over the weekend I spent one joyous afternoon exploring Telegraph Ave in Berkeley, to discover that the streets (well street) were (was) filled with hipsters, hippies, bums, musicians of all kinds and street vendors selling everything from patches, to cds to "artwork". I was engulfed with wayfarer sunglasses, flannel shirts and jeans, skinny jeans, military jackets and an inordinate amount of tie-dye.
One side note on skinny jeans. I have yet to understand how pants can be skin tight everywhere and so baggy in the ass region as give me far to much information as to the wearer's undergarments.
Anyway, fashion quandaries aside, I found myself immersed in a culture that felt radical, yet accepting. I passed a gathering (perhaps a gaggle) of hippies literally playing the bongos and watching a kitten do battle with a paper bag. I paused on my way by to stare in awe at the feline gladiator, only to look up and meet the gaze of one member of the gaggle. I felt awkward, I am not a hippie and do not resemble one in any way, so I thought there might be some sort of confrontation (I look much more like the "man" than a fellow traveler) so I sucked in a quick breath and waited to see what would unfold. What happened next was a greeting of the sincerest form that took me by surprise. One of the gaggle, looked me right in eye, smiled, said "hello" and asked me how I was doing. I then greeted him in turn with a similarly proper and polite greeting and we began chatting. The whole exchange lasted less than a minute, but we both left with smiles on our faces. I continued to walk the street with a little bounce in my step, with a heightened appreciation for everyone else who came across my path. Aside from the gaggle of hippie kitten wranglers, my favorite person was a young guy who was panhandling, oddly enough wearing a military jacket from the Vietnam war era, anyway he hit me with another surprise. I have come across many a panhandler and if I have some change and the story is good, I'll pay out, but this guy caught me off guard. I was ready for anything, some elaborate story about circumstance and hopefully something about aliens...and that is when he hit me with "hey man, can you spare 15 cents?"
At first I was going to reject him outright, but then I thought about it. What a brilliant request. No one who has fifteen cents actually wants to keep it, and if you have a quarter you'll part with that just as easily. So this guy is setting himself up one of three outcomes and two of them are good. The first is that passers by can just say nope...or they can actually count out fifteen cents (he wins, he gets exactly what he wanted), or they'll just hand him a quarter or more change (he just got even more than what he asked for). Now, sadly I had no change at all and his story wasn't dollar-worthy, but it made me stop and think for a moment. And I had to respect his panhandling philosophy.
The very next day, I drove from the East Bay area to mining country, specifically the offputtingly small town of Angels Camp. I was up there to help out at a cafe affiliated with the farm, and they needed some extra hands because there was the Gold Rush Days Festival, or something like that. So I drove 100 miles east of Telegraph to find myself walking up and down a street where people were wearing flannel shirts, jeans, playing music, and selling arts and crafts. And by music I mean the fiddle and accordion variety, and by arts and crafts I mean things with rocks and minerals attached to jewelry and old-timey gold panning equipment. Also, thankfully, no skinny jeans...Everyone I ran into at the Goldilocks festival was so nice and we chatted about this and that...the only thing missing were kitten wranglers. Although I did meet a woman and her puppy Zoe, so that sort of counts.
The only other similarity was a shocking lack of hygiene in both areas, but we need not delve into that...
What an odd and pleasant surprise, to travel from one place known for progression and protests to a small town filled with conservative country folk and have a similar yet decidedly different experience in both places. It left me with the thought that no matter how different we are, we're kinda all the same. Also, life is better with kittens and puppies...and we could all stand to bathe more frequently.
One side note on skinny jeans. I have yet to understand how pants can be skin tight everywhere and so baggy in the ass region as give me far to much information as to the wearer's undergarments.
Anyway, fashion quandaries aside, I found myself immersed in a culture that felt radical, yet accepting. I passed a gathering (perhaps a gaggle) of hippies literally playing the bongos and watching a kitten do battle with a paper bag. I paused on my way by to stare in awe at the feline gladiator, only to look up and meet the gaze of one member of the gaggle. I felt awkward, I am not a hippie and do not resemble one in any way, so I thought there might be some sort of confrontation (I look much more like the "man" than a fellow traveler) so I sucked in a quick breath and waited to see what would unfold. What happened next was a greeting of the sincerest form that took me by surprise. One of the gaggle, looked me right in eye, smiled, said "hello" and asked me how I was doing. I then greeted him in turn with a similarly proper and polite greeting and we began chatting. The whole exchange lasted less than a minute, but we both left with smiles on our faces. I continued to walk the street with a little bounce in my step, with a heightened appreciation for everyone else who came across my path. Aside from the gaggle of hippie kitten wranglers, my favorite person was a young guy who was panhandling, oddly enough wearing a military jacket from the Vietnam war era, anyway he hit me with another surprise. I have come across many a panhandler and if I have some change and the story is good, I'll pay out, but this guy caught me off guard. I was ready for anything, some elaborate story about circumstance and hopefully something about aliens...and that is when he hit me with "hey man, can you spare 15 cents?"
At first I was going to reject him outright, but then I thought about it. What a brilliant request. No one who has fifteen cents actually wants to keep it, and if you have a quarter you'll part with that just as easily. So this guy is setting himself up one of three outcomes and two of them are good. The first is that passers by can just say nope...or they can actually count out fifteen cents (he wins, he gets exactly what he wanted), or they'll just hand him a quarter or more change (he just got even more than what he asked for). Now, sadly I had no change at all and his story wasn't dollar-worthy, but it made me stop and think for a moment. And I had to respect his panhandling philosophy.
The very next day, I drove from the East Bay area to mining country, specifically the offputtingly small town of Angels Camp. I was up there to help out at a cafe affiliated with the farm, and they needed some extra hands because there was the Gold Rush Days Festival, or something like that. So I drove 100 miles east of Telegraph to find myself walking up and down a street where people were wearing flannel shirts, jeans, playing music, and selling arts and crafts. And by music I mean the fiddle and accordion variety, and by arts and crafts I mean things with rocks and minerals attached to jewelry and old-timey gold panning equipment. Also, thankfully, no skinny jeans...Everyone I ran into at the Goldilocks festival was so nice and we chatted about this and that...the only thing missing were kitten wranglers. Although I did meet a woman and her puppy Zoe, so that sort of counts.
The only other similarity was a shocking lack of hygiene in both areas, but we need not delve into that...
What an odd and pleasant surprise, to travel from one place known for progression and protests to a small town filled with conservative country folk and have a similar yet decidedly different experience in both places. It left me with the thought that no matter how different we are, we're kinda all the same. Also, life is better with kittens and puppies...and we could all stand to bathe more frequently.
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