We’re just a little to young too have been hippies. Missed it by less than a decade, though it may well be in my gene pool. My older brother had plenty of stories about the Haight and Ashbury, and even a visit to the Fillmore to see Janis Joplin while paint splotches on an overhead projector created psychedelic images on the walls. And I alluded to my hippy naturist tendencies in a previous post, when the nudies took over a secluded swimming hole just a few miles from town, much to my father’s dismay.
If there were such a thing as a time machine that could crunch the last forty years into one collective, surreal, clothing-optional experience, that would probably be a visit to Kehena Beach about twenty miles outside of Hilo on the big island of Hawaii – where it seems the clock didn’t exactly stop in 1969…
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