3/19/07 Mark the day, March 19, 2007. I'm publicly coming out of the closet to reclaim my heritage . You ask, Irish, German, Native American? Yes, those, too. But today I'm talking about my roots as a hippie. Yes, hippie. We never liked that term, actually. It was one given to us by our spiritual "grandparents" from the Beat generation. They thought of us as "junior hipsters," Beat wannabes. We preferred "freak" or "head." But I'm 57 years old. It's time to own up to the fact that I, like many of my contemporaries, succumbed over 30 years ago to America's judgement of us: well-meaning kids who were going through a post-adolescent phase at a critical time in the nation's history. Most of us nod with some sheepishness when the alleged naivite of those days is pointed out to us. Not me. No more. I've had a spiritual reawakening. I declare the following: We were right to oppose the Vietnam War, racism, sexism, capitalism,and classism. We were right to explore new values and to seek God/cosmic consciousness in risky ways. Some us died doing so. Some of us, myself included, nearly died trying. And, yes, I'm talking about both LSD and getting arrested in the streets. But look around. Were we that far off base? I think not, Horatio. As the iconic Beat poet, William Burroughs, said shortly before his death in my beloved Lawrence, Kansas, "All the gains of the '60's are being brazenly rescinded by right-wing demagogues appealing to the most bigoted, stupid, ill-intentioned segments of American society. The Ugly American musters his even uglier supporters. Censorship rears its ugly head again. The war against drugs is a pretext to increase police power on an international scale." Tell me I'm stuck in the '60's. Yes,I am and I don't intend to leave again. Waving my freak flag high. Painting my $250, newly-acquired '77 VW minibus. Growing my thinning hair longer. Re-reading Abbie Hoffman, Gandhi, and Aldous Huxley. Playing Hendrix's "Electric Ladyland" over and over, being grateful I lived in times such as those, determined to take responsibility to tell the history as accurately as I can as one who was there, take the best of those years and pass it along in both quiet and deafening ways. Count me among those who are openly waiting for the Spirit to manifest Herself once again in a new, unexpected, outrageous, scary, comforting, way. It won't look like the '60's, but it will feel that way. Once again we shall know the truth and the truth will set us free. Tell us to get a life, grow up and leave the past behind. And we'll reply, "Hell no, we won't go." More Reflections 6/22/06 – It was 17 years ago today at sunset that my father... 6/8/06 – I was at a rest stop off I-70 in Missouri the othe... 5/24/06 – The Exxon station across the street has a new look... 5/19/06 – Today is May 19. Forty-six years ago today my hom... 5/11/06 – "IT STARTED HERE. LET IT STOP HERE." ... 5/2/06 – My microwave died last week. No big deal, really.... 4/25/06 – Jane Fonda got me to thinking the other night. Sh... 4/16/06 – It's early Easter morning. I just came in fr... 9/8/05 – This past weekend I played at First United Meth... 5/14/05 – I miss Barb today, and I haven't seen her 31 years... 4/14/05 – Awhile back I was driving through East Tennessee o... 2/1/05 – Holy moments are usually unanticipated. You can't... 12/28/04 – Life's journey is like any other. Pack light as p... 12/11/04 – Welcome, fellow travelers, to "Road Reflections." ...