Old Ann Arbor hippies

hippiesOh not really, although I don’t mind being mistaken for an “old Ann Arbor hippie”. We didn’t intend to dress alike tonight, or at least I didn’t. I was going to wear something else for my trek down to the Oscar Tango tonight but at the last minute I just bagged it. I don’t care what I look like and I just wanted to be comfortable. I suspect that the GG suspected that I would wear tie-dye and decided to match me and there we were and Mouse was with us tonight and she got the photooo.

I have been mistaken for an Ann Arbor hippie (old or not) more than a few times in my life. I have complicated thoughts about my identity: Yooper, Planet Ann Arbor extraterrestrial, classical musician, would-be fiber artist, vagabond masquerading as an IT professional, hiker / skier / kayaker, beach-slugger, Black-thumb gardener, social progressive / fiscal conservative, flinger. Ann Arbor hippie? I was a wanna-be back in my teenage years, hanging out in the frozen north trying like heck to figure out how to be “cool” and fit in. Hippie? I loved the look and I did my best to emulate it — when I wasn’t trying to emulate some other look. By the way, I am kind of rambling along here, not kvetching about anything.

I could tell you about the time a prospective boyfriend-type person pegged me as an Ann Arbor hippie. I had him pegged as a frat boy. We were both pretty wrong, not to mention wrong for each other, although we made a pass at it (and he was a good person). Or the time all four of us were dressed up in tie-dye at the Log Slide (4-minute video) and some free-spirit-newly-divorced-type woman asked us where we were from… “Ooohhh, old Ann Arbor hippies”. She was trying to get her kids to go down the log slide. I thought she was nuts. Climbing back up 500 feet in deep sand? No thank you… I think she was more hippie than me.

A few minutes ago, I thought I remembered another hippie incident but it has slipped my mind. Oh yeah, it’s probably has to do with people looking at me aghast like I grow pot in my yard when I tell them where I live. Er, not, my job required a drug test, plus KW learned early on that she and pot do *not* go together. Anyway. Then there was tonight when we were walking up the hill toward home and somebody in a car came up behind us and yelled something about “those hippies”. It’s okay, it was just our friend John and (alas) the talk quickly devolved into the R-word, which I have trouble with but that’s a whole ‘nother topic and not one I will be discussing here on the old blahg.

Man oh man, am I taaarrrred tonight or what? Walked home from the Oscar Tango, took a shower and just kind of collapsed for a while. Watching videos of people going down (and up) the Log Slide probably didn’t help. I am surfacing a bit now. I only hope I don’t get a second wind. Better to wind down at this time of night.

Kayak Woman

One Response to “Old Ann Arbor hippies

  1. Margaret Says:

    I would rather be mistaken for a hippie than a Tea Bagger! 😉 I don’t have any tie dye though; I ended up with too many laundry accidents where it bled onto other clothes. Hallucenogenic underwear? No, thanks. LOL