The Hippie, Nixon, and Me
Woodstock (Written by Joni Mitchell; Performed by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young) Life’s full circle comes in the most unexpected places. Sometimes I have flashbacks back to the day when I hear a song while driving my car, or when I am in a place that reminds of something from way back then; back to the glory days of bra and draft card burning, unbridled idealism, and the smell of tear gas in the air. This time I found it in my physical therapist's office at 8:00 in the morning. While doing my pelvic thrusts in an effort to rebuild my wasted hip muscles and heal my broken vertebrae, I came across a child of God who was a few years older than me, still walking along the road to Yasgur's Farm. Betty was mid 60’ish and unkempt with waste long frizzy hair, no makeup, second hand store clothes and a mouth that would sink a battleship. She was annoying, and loud, and abrasive. She was the aging hippie personified. I tried to do everything I could to ignore her, but she loved to talk ...