<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:33:56.058-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hidden Hippie</title><subtitle type='html'>The thoughts and observations of a child of the sixties in the Twenty-first Century.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-6721137236405444914</id><published>2011-09-14T13:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T14:19:18.522-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Changing Techno-Face of Society</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I remember a time, not so very long ago when people went to a bar tavern or restaurant to socialize with their friends. Now they come with their I pads and I phones and the like so that they can sit amongst other people and play their private games in public. This is confusing to me. The other day I asked a friend what they were doing all of the time with their smart phone. She told me that she used it to check on the weather. Really, let me see, we have had over 80 days this summer over 100 degrees, yesterday was 106, the day before was 104 and they need to check the weather. It's fucking hot, it's been fucking hot and will &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;probably&lt;/span&gt; stay hot with a chance for cooler &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;temperatures&lt;/span&gt; as the fall and winter set in. For this you need a smart phone to check the weather. Well you must be pretty fucking dumb. Another friend constantly complains about his I-Phone and what it is costing him per month. I asked him why doesn't he just get a cheaper old school 'dumb' cell phone? He replied that he likes to use the navigation &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ap&lt;/span&gt; when he goes out of town. Then I pointed out that he hasn't been out of town in over a year so he was spending over $1200.00 per &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;year in&lt;/span&gt; connection fees to own a several hundred dollar phone to use an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;application&lt;/span&gt; that only applies to him going out of town which he never does. The real answer is image control. Everyone wants everyone else to think that they are state of the art even if they have no use for the gadget. A year ago, my wife and I bought a new 'used pickup truck, it doesn't have GPS or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WiFi&lt;/span&gt; or cruise control or power windows. We have to know were we are going, or not really care, we &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; no use for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WiFi&lt;/span&gt; in our truck or anywhere else for that matter. If we want to cruise down the highway, we put our foot down on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accelerator&lt;/span&gt; and leave it there and if we want to roll down the window, we don't push a button, we use a crank. Now I realize that I am using technology to vent my feeling out into &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cyberland&lt;/span&gt; but I am using a three year old computer and as I don't have voice recognition software, I am still typing my thoughts out on a computer. The next time you go out to a bar or restaurant, try leaving technology behind and try talking to someone before we all forget how.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-6721137236405444914?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/6721137236405444914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=6721137236405444914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6721137236405444914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6721137236405444914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2011/09/changing-techno-face-of-society.html' title='The Changing Techno-Face of Society'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-3893484395311168768</id><published>2010-10-12T10:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T10:27:54.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Technology Spoil Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;The other day I was having a conversation with some friends and the subject of traveling and getting lost came up. I commented that back in the mid 1970's I lived in Nevada and we would frequently have people call in to the airport that they were lost. They were usually from one of the flater central states of the U.S. and thought that flying through the mountains would be easy. Wrong, very quickly, one mountain looks just like another. Anyway, we would ask them to describe what they saw, we would then figure out where they were. We woulf tell them to fly in circles and one of us would fly out to their location and lead them back to the airport. One of the young people in the conversation then innocently asked me, "Well why didn't they just turn on their GPS and follow that. I pointed out that GPS was not invented for another twenty five years or so. She looked stunned. Just because it exists today doesn't mean it existed forever. Peace and love 'til later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-3893484395311168768?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/3893484395311168768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=3893484395311168768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3893484395311168768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3893484395311168768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2010/10/technology-spoil-us.html' title='Technology Spoil Us'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-6743659084746210473</id><published>2010-09-03T12:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T13:05:13.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Billy and the Commune</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am in the process of writing a new play titled 'Billy and the Commune'. It is the story of a young, very sheltered gentleman from Abilene, Texas who goes to New York City in the very early spring of 1968. Through a series of misfortunes, he finds himself living in a hippie commune in the city and experiences life first hand. He is so enamoured of this new lifestyle that he brings his equally sheltered finance up to the city to experience life for herself. I will bring you updates as the play progresses.&lt;/span&gt; Peace and love till later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-6743659084746210473?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/6743659084746210473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=6743659084746210473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6743659084746210473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6743659084746210473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2010/09/billy-and-commune.html' title='Billy and the Commune'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-1321114670776930198</id><published>2010-02-16T12:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T15:16:56.081-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Technology Will Ruin Us All</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A good friend of mine is currently&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;undergoing Tech withdrawal. The battery on her laptop has died, ergo, no inernet and she left her phone charger for her i-phone in Houston, so she has no cell phone use. She has to actually talk on her house phone. Oh the humanity.  I fully realize that you are reading this blog through the advances of technology but I also realize that if I can't get online for a day or two or a week, who cares.  Same with my cell phone.  All it does is make and receive phone calls, how archaic is that.  I remember a day when computers were the size of rooms and used funny cards with holes punched in them and your phone was wired to the wall.  It was really cool if you had a long phone cord and could get 12 feet away from the wall.  Mail also came once a day from the mailman.  Peace and love till later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-1321114670776930198?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/1321114670776930198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=1321114670776930198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/1321114670776930198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/1321114670776930198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2010/02/technology-will-ruin-us-all.html' title='Technology Will Ruin Us All'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-8549124252538937833</id><published>2009-12-14T12:20:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T14:20:38.696-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shit Is In The Eye Of The Beholder</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Last week I was having a visit with a friend of mine and we began talking abouty our past. It seems that he and his first wife were from a very small town somewhere in Texas. He went on to relate that they got married in the winter of 1966 and continued to live there while he looked for a perminent job. In March of 1967 he found a job in California. Both of their families warned them of the dangers of California. There were "crazy people" living out there that just weren't right. Be very carefull they were told. They packed up their few belongings and headed of to San Francisco, California. When they arrived, they rented a room at a boarding house accross the street from Golden Gate Park. Honestly, In 1967, could there be a better place to be living. The story continues... He told me that a few nights after they moved in, there was a knock on their door. Upon opening the door they found one of the hippies that lived next to them, inviting them over to his apartment to join him in smoking some "really good shit" that he had just recieved. He looked at his wife who was staring at him in disbelief. They both thought that they had been invited over to smoke some manure. They immediately declined the gracious offer. The people back home were right! These people just weren't right. With the passage of time and a little street-wise education, they discovered what "good shit" really was. Peace and love 'til later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-8549124252538937833?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/8549124252538937833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=8549124252538937833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8549124252538937833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8549124252538937833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2009/12/shit-is-in-eye-of-beholder.html' title='Shit Is In The Eye Of The Beholder'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-5966817336829548847</id><published>2009-01-21T09:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T12:30:23.209-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Barack Brings Woodstock To Washington</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday while watching the inauguration of the 44th President of these United States I could not help but think of Woodstock when during the swearing in of the president, the camera panned out to show a view of the mall showing a crowd of a reported 1.9 million people.  The scene immediately brought back images of the crowd scenes of Woodstock forty years earlier.  The people present possessed the same hope for a better future as  did the Woodstock attendees.  The only differences were the music, drugs, sex and degree of nudity.  Of course,the temperature was in the twenties which may have had something to do with this.  In fact,  some of the people may well have been at both activities.  I can only hope and pray that President Obama can bring about the changes that the country desperately needs.  Of course if he can do all of this, he will also be found jogging on the Potomac River.  I sincerely hope that our politicians with the guidance of our new President can fix the many problems that face our country.  I wish you peace and love until later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-5966817336829548847?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/5966817336829548847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=5966817336829548847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/5966817336829548847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/5966817336829548847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2009/01/barack-brings-woodstock-to-washington.html' title='Barack Brings Woodstock To Washington'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-7391932897420933056</id><published>2009-01-16T17:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T18:37:49.578-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rough Way to Loose Weight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;While I have been on quest to loose weight.  I cannot reccommend the method that I followed.  On October 12th, 2008 I suffered a stroke due to a cerebral hemmorage.   I was making my wife  some granola when the stroke hit my left arm and I thought to myself that this isn't good, washed my hands and walked over to the kitchen table and called for my wife.  She called an ambulance and off to the hospital I went.  The stroke left me paralyzed on my left side.  After almost seven weeks in the hospital I returned home to find that I had lost almost 110 pounds since starting my diet in March. A hell of a way to loose weight.  I am currently undergoing physical therapy a couple times a week and am slowly regaining use of my left side. Still having to type with only my right hand witch is a real bitch. Anyway, I hope you are all doing well and peace and love till later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-7391932897420933056?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/7391932897420933056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=7391932897420933056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7391932897420933056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7391932897420933056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2009/01/rough-way-to-loose-weight.html' title='A Rough Way to Loose Weight'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-3794661944207964349</id><published>2008-09-13T16:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T17:22:24.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Across The Universe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;It is a very gray day outside, Hurricane Ike is passing about seventy miles to the east of me and it is the perfect day to be thoughtful and introspective. I just finished watching the movie "Across The Universe", a different type of movie. It is the type that makes you turn inside yourself and your memories and make you think. It is placed in the U.S. in the late sixties during the Viet Nam war and forces you to remember and relive the memories of that time in our country. The movie masterfully uses the music of the Beatles to great effect where the music becomes the movie. I love movies that make you think, and this one certainly did. As I watched the movie unfold in front of me I could not help but think fondly of two young women that came into my life last year. They are the embodiment of Lucy (Evan Rachel Wood) and her spirit. Jaymi and Alex are two individuals who will most likely make a change in our world for the better in our future. If reincarnation exists, they are definitely two souls that have come back from the sixties to help us find our way through the future. It is my wish that everyone be lucky enough to know people such as these women. There are a handful of women in my life that I am blessed to have as part of my life and these two are definitely part of that group along with my wife, my daughters, my California girl and my San Antonio lady. Damn, I am lucky.  Peace and love till later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-3794661944207964349?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/3794661944207964349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=3794661944207964349' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3794661944207964349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3794661944207964349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2008/09/across-universe.html' title='Across The Universe'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-2155428227698229484</id><published>2008-06-15T14:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T14:24:34.339-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still on a Loosing Streak</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Just dropped in to say that I have now lost 51 pounds so far. Everything is going well adn I am comtinuing to loose. I have collected one more offer to go skinny dipping. This diet is really worth it. ;-) Check out my newest blog online at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thefatoldfartsdigest.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;www.Thefatoldfartsdigest.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt; . Peace and love til later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-2155428227698229484?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/2155428227698229484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=2155428227698229484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/2155428227698229484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/2155428227698229484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2008/06/still-on-loosing-streak.html' title='Still on a Loosing Streak'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-7739906229676168107</id><published>2008-05-09T17:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T17:54:23.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hidden Hippie Goes On The Skinny</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;        &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Well I guess it is time for the hidden hippie to regain his hips of all those many years ago as I have become a little too hippy as it were.   I looked more like the bouncing Buddha rather than the hidden hippie. The years fly by and the pounds add on.  I have decided to strip myself of all those years of unwanted pounds.  I started this quest about seven weeks ago and have lost around 34 pounds so far.  My goal is way out in front of me but I have the desire and motivation to get to my slender destination.  I am walking at least 5 miles a day and am eating sensibly in order to shed my couch potato visage.   As if health were not a large enough motivator, I have two younger hippie chicks that wish to go skinny dipping with me when I reach my goal.  Now that is motivation.  Peace and love until later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-7739906229676168107?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/7739906229676168107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=7739906229676168107' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7739906229676168107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7739906229676168107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2008/05/hidden-hippie-goes-on-skinny.html' title='The Hidden Hippie Goes On The Skinny'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-7443964864646187073</id><published>2008-04-28T09:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T14:10:49.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fully Refreshed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/SBYaI5oh42I/AAAAAAAAAFM/P215PPByH4w/s1600-h/DSC_0006a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194367960430535522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/SBYaI5oh42I/AAAAAAAAAFM/P215PPByH4w/s320/DSC_0006a.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;The trial of the Dude Commune was an unmitigated success. Saturday was a long time coming but once it arrived, it was worth the wait. The day was beautiful, warm sun, blue skies, birds chirping, very few insects. The group of participants were a perfect match of personalities and profiles. We had young and old liberals, older conservatives, and at least one libertarian. We all enjoyed hiking when we felt like it, cooling off in the creek when the necessity arose, and napping when that seemed like the thing to do. For a while, sitting under a tree watching the green meadow grow seemed like the right thing to do. All cell phones were turned off on arrival, some of the participants even made a ceremony out of turning them off as they entered the property. After a wonderful dinner and with the approaching darkness, we gathered around a campfire to discuss life, love, marriage, politics and whatever else seeped into our consciences. At one point, probably around 11, some of us took one more opportunity to take a dunk in a stock tank and then returned to the camp fire. About 1 am we all toddled off to our tents and slept the sleep of innocent children until it began to rain around 4 am. Even the rain was comforting, although there were one or two thunder claps that probably could have been eliminated. Around 7:30 I awoke and started cooking breakfast for the rest of the party. It was still raining but not very hard. It was very peaceful and quiet this Sunday morning in the country. Rain tends to muffle all of the unpleasant sounds of our society. No distant cars could be heard, only the gentle falling rain. As I prepared breakfast, the rest of the group began to appear out of their tents. Breakfast was enjoyed under a canvas shelter, I am not that in love with the rain. After breakfast, everyone loaded up their essentials and we headed back to civilization. From the comments made by the participants in this weekends' activities, it was the most relaxed all of us had been in some time. Civilization and society are a necessary evil in our lives but the lack of them for a few days is heaven on earth. Peace and love till later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-7443964864646187073?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/7443964864646187073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=7443964864646187073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7443964864646187073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7443964864646187073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2008/04/fully-refreshed.html' title='Fully Refreshed'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/SBYaI5oh42I/AAAAAAAAAFM/P215PPByH4w/s72-c/DSC_0006a.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-8862757121278484757</id><published>2008-04-22T10:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T11:09:55.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Commune Trial</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/SA4Nr5oh41I/AAAAAAAAAFE/B_2jojjScgc/s1600-h/100_1679.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192102468261110610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/SA4Nr5oh41I/AAAAAAAAAFE/B_2jojjScgc/s320/100_1679.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;This weekend I am going to have a small trail run of the Dude Commune idea. I am going camping with some friends on our property. Hopefully the Weather Gods will cooperate with us. I will let you know how our commune with nature develops. Imagine, no cell phones for 24 hours, isn't it great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-8862757121278484757?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/8862757121278484757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=8862757121278484757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8862757121278484757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8862757121278484757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2008/04/commune-trial.html' title='Commune Trial'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/SA4Nr5oh41I/AAAAAAAAAFE/B_2jojjScgc/s72-c/100_1679.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-2731944639718714118</id><published>2008-04-07T07:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T08:12:26.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Noble Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;      &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I am familiar with two young women who are about to graduate from college and embark the most noble profession that I can think of.  They are about to join the Peace Corps and give two years of their lives to help people in third world countries that they do not know.  Can anything be more noble, in a time when most people go through their lives with their heads shoved completely up their own self-important asses.  One of these women seems to be filled with self doubt about her future, this is normal in almost all graduating seniors from college.  What is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exascerbating&lt;/span&gt; her situation is a group of self centered individuals who are filling her with this self doubt because of their own self interests.  They are telling her that she does not love enough or even worse is incapable of loving people.  This is utter nonsense.  Can a person exhibit more love for her fellow man than by joining the Peace Corps to help people in foreign lands.  She will most likely live in a small hut or home miles from nearest other Peace Corps member with a family that she has never met.  This is a display of caring and courage that humbles me.  Doesn't love?  This women's aura practically glows.  She could  light up a dark room with her warmth and personality.  Being in either her presence, or her Peace Corp bound friend's  presence makes you feel better and happier.  Both of these women are representative of the very best qualities of the sixties ideal and human nature in general.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;Both of these women are passionate about their beliefs and values and have no problem defending their positions to anyone.  It is rare today to find individuals with these qualities and I consider myself very lucky to have had the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;opportunity&lt;/span&gt; to call these two women friends.  Anyone who questions either of these women's motives is self absorbed and just plain foolish.  All I can do is give them my undying admiration and support.  Bless these two young women in their future and wherever it takes them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-2731944639718714118?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/2731944639718714118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=2731944639718714118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/2731944639718714118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/2731944639718714118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2008/04/noble-love.html' title='Noble Love'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-3675957852586159349</id><published>2007-12-27T15:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T11:57:25.957-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rat Race Is Calling</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I hope everyone is enjoying their own version of a Happy Holidays. It has been stated many times in the past by many people that we are all in the rat race of life. We all trudge along on our own personal hamster wheels spending our days and nights trying to maintain our balance. If you happen to change jobs, in reality, you are just jumping onto a new hamster wheel. I suppose the best that we can hope for is to find that particular wheel that suits each of our own personalities and desires with the best fit. In a more perfect world, we would all be happy with our positions in life but too many people are never happy with were they are. Advertizers have convinced most of us that we all need the newest widgit for us to have a happy and fulfilling life. In most cases, this is bullshit. All you really need is yourself and enough clothing and money to be protected from the elements and starvation. If you are fortunate to have a family around you then in most cases you really do have all you need. Don't let the rat race and technology run your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I was at work last night and had a group of six women come in and spent the better part of several hours in my busines. During this time, even though there were more than enough people present to have several rounds of rousing conversation, these six women never let more than a four or five minute period of time go by without the necessity of text messaging someone or calling someone, usually with no other purpose than to see what they were doing. Are people really that fucking nosey or are they so insecure that they can not stand the thought of someone doing something or being somewhere that might be more exciting than what they themselves are currently doing. At one point they even joked about how did they ever get by before the advent of cellphones and text messaging. Do we really need to stay in this tight of a correspondence loop with everyone we know. I doubt it. The existence of the free world really does not hang in the balance. Later in the evening, after 1 AM, to be exact, three other customers all came in wearing their &lt;em&gt;Star Trek&lt;/em&gt;-like &lt;em&gt;Blue Tooth&lt;/em&gt; cell phones in their ears because apartently they are all so important that they need to be in constant contact with fan base but still need both hands free for drinking. At least they have their drinking priorities straight. I can appreciate that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I predict that within the next couple years that there will be another back to the earth revolution. I think that some people will hopefully realize that they still control their own lives, technology does't. They will discover that they have become captives of a technological world and retake control of their own lives. Heaven to me has become the time when I go out to the country and walk for hours with no phone calls or text messages. No one to bother me and my wife in our all too brief commune with nature. Maybe my wife and I are the strange ones but neither of us desire to be in constant communication with the rest of the world. As the author of this blog, it is obvious that I enjoy technology but I hopefully keep it in its' place and I control it rather than it controlling me. Try regaining your life. Try turning off your cell phone for fifteen minutes once a day. I know it will be hard to do at first but it is a good starting point, and by the way, when you are out with your friends, try paying a little more attention to them and less to your cell phone, it is the polite thing to do. Have a great year filled with peace and love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-3675957852586159349?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/3675957852586159349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=3675957852586159349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3675957852586159349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3675957852586159349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2007/12/rat-race-is-calling.html' title='The Rat Race Is Calling'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-6693503612648421777</id><published>2007-04-12T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T14:59:41.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dude Commune</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/Rh5jKpYTpfI/AAAAAAAAAE0/YI2xahQ4zEw/s1600-h/100_1150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052584866513921522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/Rh5jKpYTpfI/AAAAAAAAAE0/YI2xahQ4zEw/s320/100_1150.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I have been toying with the idea of building a, for lack of a better term, a dude commune or visitation commune on some property that my wife and I own outside of town&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. The purpose of this would be for world weary people to come and regenerate themselves for 3 or 4 days. When the visitors checked in they surrender their cell phones and beepers and begin a period of technological celebacy. There would be no television or radio or telephones readily available. For this would be a time to regenerate your soul or inner self in you prefer. A time to relax and get back in touch with yourself and your loved ones. You could spend your days walking in the country, playing in a creek, hot-tubbing, getting a massage, helping in the herb garden, star gazing at night and simply contemplating your navel or reading a book. Anything would be allowed except for communication with the outside world. The food would be simple, healthy, delicious and nourishing. There would be plenty of privacy and no silly organized, required activities. You want to lay naked in the sunshine and get a tan, skinny dip in the creek, no problem. You want to take a second honeymoon with your spouse, make love under the stars on the deck of your cabin, no problem. Life here will be simple and good, like the world should be. No stress, no demands, just relax and put your brain back together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-6693503612648421777?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/6693503612648421777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=6693503612648421777' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6693503612648421777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6693503612648421777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2007/04/dude-commune.html' title='The Dude Commune'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/Rh5jKpYTpfI/AAAAAAAAAE0/YI2xahQ4zEw/s72-c/100_1150.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-956887824577836198</id><published>2007-01-11T19:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T14:39:32.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To Pube, or Not To Pube</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=143058875331636119&amp;q=cat"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Years ago, back in the 60's and 70's, most women (99%), over the age of puberty had a field of luxurious curlies garnishing their nether regions. Admittedly, some may have have gone overboard in this department. I remember one young lady that brought visions of a machete or weed wacker to mind. Most women did keep them trimmed nicely but not waxed clean as is the fashion today. I guess you could say that there is some merits in the truth in advertising method that is in vogue now but there was a degree of mystery in the bushes of days gone by. What wonders were being hidden behind that soft carpet of twisted fur? Some of them quite frankly don't need to see the light of day, a little camouflage would definitely help. There is one woman that I know that between the razor-rash, five o'clock stubble and the fact that she looks like she has been hit with an axe would definitely benefit from a little bush. Maybe it is just a liberal political statement, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No More Bush&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, who knows&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;If nothing else, the pedophiles of the world should be happy as most women now look like they are nine years old again. If you are going to clean up your crotch, then I would suggest waxing as an alternative to shaving. It's neater, smoother and you would have to go through the ordeal nearly as often. But what is wrong with a little fur? You should look like a woman, not a little girl. Check out this video and you will see what I mean about the situation, &lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=143058875331636119&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;q=cat"&gt;http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=143058875331636119&amp;amp;amp;amp;q=cat&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-956887824577836198?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/956887824577836198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=956887824577836198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/956887824577836198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/956887824577836198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2007/01/to-pube-or-not-to-pube.html' title='To Pube, or Not To Pube'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-5432257268687648288</id><published>2007-01-09T14:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T14:43:52.776-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yup,  I Was Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I just came back from a trip to buy some incense, patchouli, if you are interested, from the little shop I mentioned in my last posting yesterday. I asked how their Salvia Divinorum sales were going and they told me that they were through the roof. They said the only thing that the news coverage accomplished was giving them lots of free advertising. The few people that used to buy Salvia came in to buy more before it sold out or disappeared and lots of other people that did not even know of the existence of the shop or of Salvia have been in to check it out and to purchase some. If you are wondering, I did not buy any as I am naturally high on life and don't need any help. Peace and love till later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-5432257268687648288?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/5432257268687648288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=5432257268687648288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/5432257268687648288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/5432257268687648288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2007/01/yup-i-was-right.html' title='Yup,  I Was Right'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-8937517758425880369</id><published>2007-01-08T13:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T14:40:25.944-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inadvertant Advertising</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;A little over a week ago, a local television station was hyping one of their local news features for the evening broadcast.  There tag line was something along the lines of "Local Store selling potent hallucigen!"  As I had to go to work before the evening news broadcast, I asked my wife to watch the program to find out what was being sold and where.  After the news, she called me and told me that the news story was about Salvia Divinorum, an herb grown in Mexico, central America, and Hawaii.  It contains a pyschedelic compontent known as Salvinorum A.  It can be chewed or smoked and from what I have read, it is found to be very unpleasant by most people who experiment with it.  The herb is completely legal in the United States as are Nutmeg and Morning Glory seeds, two other common products that you can trip on if you are so inclined.  If you are more interested in it and its nauseating side effects, check out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.erowid.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;www.erowid.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt; for more information.  Back to the news story.  It seems that a local shop that sells, posters, incense, beaded curtains, tee shirts and the like was indeed selling the herb.  As it is completely legal and most likely 99.9 % of our local population did not know of it's existence, there it sat on the shelf, almost no one knowing it was there.  But the television station trotted out a list of local people who were outraged that such a substance was for sale in our fair community and of course, the city should do something to protect us from this demon.  Made me think of the 1937 movie &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reefer Madness. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The afternoon before this program aired, virually no one knew of it's present, I certainly didn't and have been in that shop many times, and thanks to the stations free advertising, now thousands knew about this psychedelic herb for sale, right here in river city, my friends.  Sometimes I think people would be better off if we were not quite so well informed by the well meaning do-gooders of our society.  Maybe there is an upside to this, instead of our youth looking for an illegal six pack of beer or bottle of booze, the well meaning television station has now informed them about a legal pyschedelic they can all take.  Sometimes I wonder and other times, I just don't know.  Peace and love until next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-8937517758425880369?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/8937517758425880369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=8937517758425880369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8937517758425880369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8937517758425880369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2007/01/inadvertant-advertising.html' title='Inadvertant Advertising'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-9181707468771297256</id><published>2006-12-25T14:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T18:17:06.359-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo-Nymph</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Every now and then I will write a posting that does not have a social commentary or point to it. It will just be a &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;story from my past. This is one of those. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZA4E1c-lmI/AAAAAAAAADg/yAWnN_N429M/s1600-h/100_1088a.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012568040982615650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZA4E1c-lmI/AAAAAAAAADg/yAWnN_N429M/s320/100_1088a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;It was a warm day in late spring with beautiful blue skies. Sounds like the opening to an old Dragnet series, doesn't it?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As you may have assumed from my &lt;em&gt;Amy From Austin posting&lt;/em&gt; I have been into photography for a long time, actually I began as a child back in the 1950's. I have met a large number of women over the years that I have had the priviledge to photograph. This young lady came to me through a mutual friend back in the very early 1990's. She and her husband were from a small town about 40 or 50 miles from where I lived at the time. Her husband first approached me while we were shooting in the country on some property that I owned. He asked about shooting her in the nude. He wanted to know what she would have to do as she was 'shy' to ask herself. I told him that it was easy, she had to take her clothing off. I have always been amazed at how many women are shy about talking about being photographed in the nude and once the clothing comes off, they don't seem to care if it ever goes back on. There was one woman I knew that wanted me to shoot some nudes of her in my studio. I set up the background while she changed into a very loose fitting robe. I had her continue to wear the robe while I did the final lighting adjustments and exposure reading with her in the correct position. When I was ready to shoot her I asked her to remove the garment that she was wearing. At this point, she quietly asked me to turn around. I asked her to repeat her statement as I did not her her. Once more she told me to turn around as I was not going to watch her undress. What the hell, it's her time and money so I turned around. Moments later she was ready to shoot and I turned around to find her totally naked, lying in the position that we had discussed. For the next 45 minutes we shot various poses, all nude. At the end of the shoot, she once again asked me to turn away from her so that she could put her clothing back on. A few days later, she came into studio to look at her proofs and picked several of the images. As she was leaving, she remarked that she couldn't wait th get the finished images so she could sh&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZBEClc-lnI/AAAAAAAAADs/Og2vryxcCkk/s1600-h/100_1087b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012581196467443314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZBEClc-lnI/AAAAAAAAADs/Og2vryxcCkk/s320/100_1087b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ow all of her friends. Are you scratching your head yet, I was. I digress, meanwhile back to the couple, as I said, she was too shy to ask me herself about shooting in the altogether so she had her husband ask the all important question. At the end of our brief conversation, he disappeared into the old farmhouse where I had been photographing her at an old window. Within a minute or two, his wife appeared at the glassless window were I had been shooting her clothed just a few minutes before. The only difference was this time the only thing she was wearing was a smile. We shot at the house for a few more minutes and then she wanted to venture down to the creek which flowed rather idyllica&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZCLZ1c-loI/AAAAAAAAAD4/QWMnIpYFrDQ/s1600-h/100_1085a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012659661224973954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZCLZ1c-loI/AAAAAAAAAD4/QWMnIpYFrDQ/s320/100_1085a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;lly about 100 yards away. She took to the creek like the preverbial duck to water. I have photographed a great number of women over the last 40 years or so but I must admit, this young lady was one of the most beautiful women I ever had the priviledge to work with. Her husband was understandably proud of her and completely cool. She was one of the most natural posing people that I have ever photographed. Once she took her clothing off, she became completely comfortable with herself. She truly was a little nymph. She had a quality about her that was rare, she was completely at ease and never carried herself with any airs of being anything special. She was just what she was, thats all. She would have been right at home at Woodstock and pictured her there many times in my mind. We finished our shoot and headed back into town, I took plenty of time loading my equipment back into the back of my SUV in orfer to give her plenty of time to dry off and get changed. She was in the back seat and her husband was in the front. We drove down the lane to leave the farm and reached the gate at the main road. Her husband jumped out and opened it for me. We then headed the 6 or 7 mile&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZCO2lc-lpI/AAAAAAAAAEA/AtXVi3fUghc/s1600-h/100_1086a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012663453681096338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZCO2lc-lpI/AAAAAAAAAEA/AtXVi3fUghc/s320/100_1086a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;s back into town. When we were almost back to the city, I happened to glance into the back seat and noticed that this young lady was just now starting to put her clothing back on. She had been just sitting back there, window open and enjoying the breeze. I continued to photograph this young lady over the next several years and used her many times as a model in photgraphy workshops that I held from time to time. I always considered myself very lucky to work with this young model, who wouldn't. As this has been a rather cool, windy winter day, I hope these images have helped warm you up and removed the winters' chill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-9181707468771297256?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/9181707468771297256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=9181707468771297256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/9181707468771297256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/9181707468771297256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/photo-nymph.html' title='Photo-Nymph'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RZA4E1c-lmI/AAAAAAAAADg/yAWnN_N429M/s72-c/100_1088a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-2368992006617567696</id><published>2006-12-24T15:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T14:38:57.105-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Time of Your Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;A week or so again I was talking to some of my friends when one of them posed a most interesting question, "What was the happiest time of your life?" On the surface, this sounded like a very easy question, but after some thought, it isn't. There are hopefully several happy times in everyones life. The happiest moment, the happiest day, &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RY3UQVc-ljI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bv677hc9BKY/s1600-h/100_1081a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011895337434912306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RY3UQVc-ljI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bv677hc9BKY/s200/100_1081a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the happiest period of time. I asked for some clarification as to which happiest time they were asking about. They wanted to know the happiest period of time. The most difficult of the three for most people. After a few minutes thought, I replied that for me, the happiest period of time was when I was a teenager and had the good fortune to live in the Bahamas for 15 months. This was from June 1964 until the end of August 1965. I can not think of a better place to be. Swimming in beautifully clear, warm water virtually everyday with the exception of a few hurricaine days. The ex&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RY3Uplc-lkI/AAAAAAAAADE/-uwqjS-EjwI/s1600-h/100_1078a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011895771226609218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RY3Uplc-lkI/AAAAAAAAADE/-uwqjS-EjwI/s200/100_1078a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;perience of learning in a different type of school and educational environment. At that time, the Bahamas were a part of the British Commonwealth and therefore the the schools and most of the teachers were from England With the exception of one being from Hungary. This was with out a doubt the best year of learning that I ever had in my twelve years of public education. The English firmly believed in corporal punishment and whippings and caning were the rule of the day. Because of this, behavior problems disappeared within the first day or two of class each semester. Students all rose when the teacher entered the room and stood until they were acknowledged by the instructor. You also rose and stood at the end of each class. There was nothing perceived as wrong about showing respect for your elders and each other. We had a two hour lunch break evryday and quite often would go down to the beach to go swimming. It was not unusual to see someone sitting in class in the afternoon with wet hair. I lived on Grand Bahama Island in Freeport before it became a very popular tourist destination. There was a topless and nude beach, quite informative and educational for a boy my age, drinking at almost any age was tolerated as long as you did it in moderation. Moderation was something that everyone learned in order to keep their priviledges. Instead of a ice cream truck driving through town at night, the was a liquor truck, all you had to do was walk to the end of your sidewalk and the truck would stop. You could order all of your liquors, beers, mixers and ice. Your order completed, he would drive down the street to the next person standing at the curb. We had soft drink machines on the street that sold ice cold beer instead of soft drinks. All you had to do was put in your 2 shillings, 28 cents at the time, pick your desired beer, press the botton, and it would appear at the bottom of the machine. Quite often, after school, I would walk over to a friends house and we would enjoy a Beefeaters&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;TM&lt;/span&gt; Gin and Schweppes&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;TM&lt;/span&gt; Bitter Lemon. A very refreshing way to end a day of studying at school. The Bahamas were a very interesting mix of instense discipline and freedom. You were free to do quite a few things as long as you did not take advantage of your freedoms. During the time I lived there, whites made up only about 20 to 25 percent of the population. The rest of the population was comprised of Bahamians. These were blacks, potential slaves, that were left on the islands when the American Civil War started. The entire population of the island was less than 10,000 people at the time. The Bahamian blacks were of a different mindset than the American black. They were a very sweet, kind and honest people. The white people on the island were always welcome in th small villages on the other parts of the island such as Hunter, Seagrape or Eight Mile Rock. You were welcome in their bars and could dance with them because in their minds, they did not perceive a difference, you were just another person who had come to have a good time. My father would frequently go out to these small towns and bars to play music with them as he was a dyed-in-the-wool musician at heart. He was always wecome with open arms. There was no racial bigotry on the part of the Bahamians, there was some racism present on the part of the American whites when they first moved to the island but with rare exception, this disappeared after they had been there a while. This was completely diferent from the racial tensions and strife that were so prevailent 120 miles away in th mainland of the United States. Crime virtually did not exsist on the island and almost no one locked the houses when they were away in town. Spending fifteen months in a population where I was the minority taught me a great deal about looking at situations form all sides. At the time, I always thought it was strange that the whites that had moved to the island were there to help 'civilize' the native population. They were introducing the need for posessions, money and competion between individuals. This was something that previously really did not exist. The average Bahamian lived in a small house usually placed up on small pylons several feet above the ground. As most of the villages were located on a part of the island that was only several hundred yards wide, the land was only 3 or 4 feet above sea level. The highest point on the whole island was only 22 feet above sea level. By building their houses up on piers, this allowed the occasional high tide to simply flow under the house rather than through it. They all owned a few chickens, planted asmall garden and owned a small boat or dingy. When they were hungry, they ate, usually fish but sometimes one of their chickens, when they were tired they slept, and when they were horny, they made love to their wife or girlfriend. They were all deeply religious and all went to church every Sunday. To me, it seemed like they had a pretty good life and had figured out life pretty damn well. Leave it to us to come into their paradise and insist that they have to go to work everyday, punch a clock, and make money so they can be happy. Bullshit, it seemed to me that they were the truly cizilized people. This was definitely the happiest period of my life and would recommend that if or when you have children of your own, that you move to a small island for a while to let your children learn how to live life. I went back there several years ago with my family only to find that the island had been completely Americanized. It is still a very visually attractive place but it sucks now. None of the character it had all those years ago is still present, it is now nothing more than a tourist trap. You will have to find your own island, but rest assured, they still exist, I found one&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RY7k5Fc-llI/AAAAAAAAADU/YwI66byfBvs/s1600-h/100_1082a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012195104677336658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RY7k5Fc-llI/AAAAAAAAADU/YwI66byfBvs/s200/100_1082a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, but I'm not saying where it is. Peace and love to everyone until next time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-2368992006617567696?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/2368992006617567696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=2368992006617567696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/2368992006617567696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/2368992006617567696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/best-time-of-your-life.html' title='The Best Time of Your Life'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RY3UQVc-ljI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bv677hc9BKY/s72-c/100_1081a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-1233622016870832861</id><published>2006-12-24T12:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T12:44:28.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Vindication</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There has been much discussion of my recent posting on the "Me Generation", I am quite happy to say that my hypothesis has been affirmed and my position vindicated by no less than Time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;TM &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Magazine. This weeks' issue is their "Person of the Year " issue. When you pick up the magazine and look at the cover, you will find a mirror on the cover-page so that you see your own reflection. Yes, boys and girls, this years "Person of the Year" is &lt;strong&gt;YOU.&lt;/strong&gt; If that isn't reaffirming my position that we are currently living in a narcissistic, Me generation, then I don't know what is. Peace and love until later and unasshamedly I wish you all a very politically incorrect &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Merry Christmas&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-1233622016870832861?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/1233622016870832861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=1233622016870832861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/1233622016870832861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/1233622016870832861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/vindication.html' title='Vindication'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-8532304885587285224</id><published>2006-12-21T11:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T18:50:20.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Universe and The Insignificant</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYr5rVc-lfI/AAAAAAAAACI/CBeq6UiV2jE/s1600-h/100_0699.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011092058291475954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYr5rVc-lfI/AAAAAAAAACI/CBeq6UiV2jE/s320/100_0699.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday we were reflecting on how much prices had changed over the years. When I was in college one of the required courses that I needed to take for my major, Geology, was one called "Summer Field Methods". At the time it involved traveling around the western United States in a Chevy Suburban traveling from Texas to the farthest reaches of the Olympic peninsula in Washington state. Over a six week period of time, we covered over 10,500 miles, stayed an a motel for a total of two nights and camped the rest of the time. The entire trip cost somewhere in the neighborhoo&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYr1JVc-leI/AAAAAAAAACA/EuD6U5lXvoI/s1600-h/100_0684a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011087076129412578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYr1JVc-leI/AAAAAAAAACA/EuD6U5lXvoI/s200/100_0684a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d of $275.00 for gasoline and we each had to bring $150.00 cash in the form of travelers checks with us to cover all of our expenses for the six weeks.  My, times and economies have changed. It was a great way to see the country and there was plenty of time for contemplation. I remember one night in particular, we were camping in northern Montana, there was just a sliver of moon in the sky, we were at least 100 miles from the nearest town of any consequence and the sky was ablaze with starlight. The milky way was clearly visable and the starlight was almost bright enough to read a newspaper by. As I laid there in my sleeping bag, no tents were allowed, I looked up into the eternity of the heavens and marveled at the sight. The cool, crisp mountain air refreshed my ears and cheeks and were a welcome sensation compared to the coziness of the sleeping bag. I was looking back into millions, no billions of years of time. The starlight had been traveling for hundreds of centuries, just to delight our vision and light up that particular night. If that doesn't make you feel &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYsk8lc-lgI/AAAAAAAAACY/en1hhCvi8q4/s1600-h/100_0687.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011139633644213762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYsk8lc-lgI/AAAAAAAAACY/en1hhCvi8q4/s320/100_0687.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;special, then I guess nothing will. When you are out in nature, alone at night, looking up at the sky, a person can feel very small and insignificant.  Wouldn't be nice if all of  the problems in our world were as insignificant.  They should be.   Have you ever thought about the fact that all babies are born equal.  Babies are born with no prejudice toward anyone.  They don't know if they are black, white. brown, or yellow.  They don't care if they are Christain, Muslum, Jewish, Hindu, Buddist or whatever.  They just know to love and grow.   Grown-ups that should know better and should know all of the answers teach them about hate, religious intolerance and bigotry.  Maybe the grownups should take a lesson from the babies of the world.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-8532304885587285224?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/8532304885587285224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=8532304885587285224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8532304885587285224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/8532304885587285224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/universe-and-insignificant.html' title='The Universe and The Insignificant'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYr5rVc-lfI/AAAAAAAAACI/CBeq6UiV2jE/s72-c/100_0699.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-4481285064082528419</id><published>2006-12-21T01:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T09:25:55.894-06:00</updated><title type='text'>mePods</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;One of my regulars at the bar, an intelligent, very masculine, and as he so humbly puts it, well endowed reader of the blog has seen the light ;-). Tonight he admitted that he now thinks of his cherished iPod as his mePod. After reading the posting on the &lt;em&gt;Me Generation&lt;/em&gt;, he has laughingly reassessed his priorities concerning his iPod. Score one for an old hippie. Hip-Hippie Hooray! Sorry, it had to be done. Peace and Love till later.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-4481285064082528419?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/4481285064082528419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=4481285064082528419' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/4481285064082528419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/4481285064082528419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/mepods.html' title='mePods'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-3673741172419597298</id><published>2006-12-18T21:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T12:40:40.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Amy From Austin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYdX8Vc-lcI/AAAAAAAAABk/9auErAdsch0/s1600-h/100_1061a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010069804535420354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYdX8Vc-lcI/AAAAAAAAABk/9auErAdsch0/s200/100_1061a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Every now and then I will relay a story or incident from my youth.  This is one of those stories.  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010068172447847858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" height="269" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYdWdVc-lbI/AAAAAAAAABc/msYXmzFOtIs/s320/100_1064a.jpg" width="213" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The young women of thirty-five or forty years ago were much different from today. They were much more relaxed with a take me as I am attitude. People in general did not have as much personal drama going for them aas they do today. Maybe Viet Nam gave us all the drama we needed at that time. I get to watch people all night long at my business and it is my observation that people are going out of their way to find drama. "&lt;em&gt;Did you hear the way she said hello to me tonight. Well what crawled up her ass?&lt;/em&gt;" People today microanalize everything that is said to them looking for potential flaws in the delivery. Women are particularly prone to this. Back in the day, people were not as sensitive as they are today. Society was much more laid back and casual. Sort of "What you see is what you get." I am not saying that they did not find cause to find problems with people from time to time, they certainly did but in everyday life, they were more genuine than some of the women today. They did not feel like they had to have and present some preconceived image of themselves to the world. I guess natural would be a better term to describe them. As this young coed, a college student from Austin, Texas demonstrates, there is a beauty in the simplicity of her dress. The obligitory bell bottom pants and tee shirt. The plain beauty of naturalness with very little or no make-up at all. I met this girl in the fall of 1970 while I was walking around my college campus one Friday afternoon before Homecoming. just taking pictures of people getting ready for the festivities of the looming weekend. My girlfriend at that time was busy finishing up the final preparations on her sorority's homecoming float. I ran across Amy as she was also walking around the campus. She had driven up to our city to meet some friends only to find that they had left her alone and opted to go out of town themselves for the weekend. People were thoughtless and inconsiderate then as well as today. She was just killing time while she was deciding what she was going to do with herself for the weekend. When I saw her, I asked if I could take a couple of pictures of her and she initially declined saying stating that she was camera shy. I let it go at that and we talked for a few minutes while she told me of being stood up by her friends. She then went her way and I thought that was that. About ten minutes later she found me once more and said that she had been thinking about my photo offer and decided to let me photograph her. I asked her what had changed her mind and she said that it was that when I asked, she said no, and I had let it go at that. It was my nonthreatening, whatever, attitude that relaxed her. She nervously asked me what she had to do and I told her nothing, I would just snap some pictures when I liked the image. I have always been in favor of environmental, non-posed photographs. I snapped a few images of her and as the light was fading, I suggested we go back to my department where there was a small studio set up in the corner of one of the lab classrooms. That is where the above images were recorded. As there were a good number of students walking in and out of the room watching us from time to time, Amy asked if we could go somewhere else as this was making her nervous. She suggested that we go back to the rent house of her friends as they had left her a key. I gathered up my equipment and off we went to their rent house on Eleventh Street. As soon as she got inside the house her personality changed, she immediately began removing her clothing and told me to hurry up and set up my photo equipment. She had obviously conquered her camera shyness. She told me while undressing that she decided that she may never feel this comfortable or have this opportunity again. By the time I was ready, she was sitting under a blanket on the couch wearing no more than her birthday suit and waiting for her panty lines to disappear. As it was in the fall and it was cool in the house, I turned up the Dearborn heater in hte room to take the chill off of the air. We didn't want to shoot goosepimples.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;As soon as the room had warmed up we began shooting. Amy posessed a very atheletic physique with pale white skin and somewhat small, but beautifully rounded breasts with small puffy pink nipples that sat high and proudly on her chest. Her pubic region was covered in well groomed dark hair as was the fashion of the day, not the closely cropped and waxed nether regions that are in vogue today. Her legs were lean and showed beautiful muscle definition. We shot and talked until I ran out of film. After we had been finished shooting for a while, Amy said, "well I guess I had better put some clothing back on". She had been strolling around the room talking and seemingly totally oblivious to her state of undress. No, if you are wondering, we did not do anything other than talk and take pictures, sorry. I left shortly thereafter to go back to the darkroom to develop the images that we had made. We met early Saturday morning for Amy to view the images and choose her favorites as I told her I would print some for her. She gave me her address in Austin and I agreed to send them to her &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYgn6lc-ldI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Dy244IIsKk4/s1600-h/100_1059ab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010298472889226706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYgn6lc-ldI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Dy244IIsKk4/s200/100_1059ab.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; in the next few days. I also agreed that no one would see the nudes that I took of her that day except for her and anyone that she chose to show back in Austin. That was thirty six years ago and I am still keeping my word to her even today. Sorry, there won't be any of those photos in this posting. Amy and I continued to correspond over the next two years or so but I never saw her again. She did tell me however, that after photographing with me, and getting over her problems with posing, that she continued to pose for other photographers in Austin area. It seems that you never know what you will really like until you try it . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYgn6lc-ldI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Dy244IIsKk4/s1600-h/100_1059ab.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-3673741172419597298?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/3673741172419597298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=3673741172419597298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3673741172419597298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/3673741172419597298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/amy-from-austin.html' title='Amy From Austin'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_decsOMqLTV0/RYdX8Vc-lcI/AAAAAAAAABk/9auErAdsch0/s72-c/100_1061a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-7010792808466253970</id><published>2006-12-18T07:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T08:14:45.918-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I Wonder and Othertimes I Just Don't Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;This has been an interesting weekend.  Yesterday I watched four hours of a VH-1 Rockumentary on the drug years from the 1950's until the 1990's.  I was impressed as I thought that it would show a more liberal viewpoint than it did but it did not.  It protrayed virtually all of the drugs mentioned in a very poor light.   Marijuana was about the only thing that did not get slammed too hard.  It makes me wonder what set of circumstances brings a person to start doing some of the drugs out there today.  I can understand that in the '60's people where trying to "find" themselves and expand their minds and they had people such as Timothy Leary telling them that it was ok.  That was forty years ago and was a much more niave time but today the dangers of methamphetamines and cocaine and their derivitives have been well documented.  Why would someone ever decide to take a substance that will invariably ruin your life, health, and could very likely kill you.  These drugs are very cardio-toxic, that means they can kill you.  Are these people filled with so much self hate and loothing that they decide to harm themselves in such a manor or does it go back to the idea that some people will do anything for a few moments of feeling good about themselves even when the ultimate result is tragic.  I was talking to a member of our local police department in the last few days and he confirmed that methamphetamine abuse in our town is very widespread.  These is not the diet pills that people used to pop in the 50's and 60's but the home brewed stuff that is dangerous as hell.  I swear, as a person who does'nt go through a small bottle of aspirin every year, I simply don't understand the need to alter your perception of life in this way.  I wish someone could explain it.  Life is not that bad that it always has to be altered.  I know a gentleman with severe health issues who was told by his doctor to not drink any alcohol for a period of two years.  His response was "What's the point of living without drinking alcohol."  He is now in the process of drinking himself to death but not in my bar as I will not serve him.  My wife and I care about him even if he doesn't.  Addiction is a terrible illness that affects certain people, whether it be illegal drugs, alcohol, tobacco or even gambling.  Not all addictions have to be consumed to harm us.  I know a great number of people who are always going to quit smoking, next week, after finals, the first of the year, as soon as they find a new job or whatever.  There is always a relaying reason to continue their habit.  I too also have my own cross to bear, I am significantly overweight need to do something about immediately.  I am not a jolly old fat man, I just play one at my bar.  For it can kill me just as easily as any of the other addictions that I have mentioned.  As this year comes to an end, lets hope we can all have a healthier and happier new year ahead of us.  Peace and Love to everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-7010792808466253970?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/7010792808466253970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=7010792808466253970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7010792808466253970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/7010792808466253970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/sometimes-i-wonder-and-othertimes-i.html' title='Sometimes I Wonder and Othertimes I Just Don&apos;t Know'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-6958344960808735341</id><published>2006-12-14T12:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T13:53:25.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>JFK and Marijuana</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I read recently that our late President John Kennedy used marijuana on a regular basis to help alleviate his chronic back pain. In fact he was seriously contemplating legalizing it do to it's medicinal properties. This idea obviously died with him when he was tragically assasinated. When I mentioned this to a couple of friends, they both independently stated, "Well no wonder the Mafia shot him." This got me to thinking, there will always be conspiracy theories as to the assasination of JFK put it has been fairly well established that the mafia was responsible for his presidential election in 1960. Looking back, was it really wise for his brother, then Attorney General Robert Kennedy to so viciously persue the mafia as he did. Think about the consequences of all of this. Had the mafia not helped JFK win the election as a friend pointed out, President Nixon would have lead us through the Cuban Missle Crisis. That is a sobering thought as to how the outcome may have differed. If President Kennedy had lived through the end of his presidency, we would have been most likely out of Viet Nam in the early to mid sixties as opposed to 1975. How many lives would that have saved. If the president had legalized marijuana in the mid sixties, how many 100's of thousands of people would not have been arrested on drug possesion charges and had their lives changed forever. How many Billions of dollars would have been saved in prosicution, defense, incarceration and lost wages to the American economy. The mafia and other organized crime syndicates would have lost out on billions of dollars of profit. The police would have had millions of man hours free to persue real criminals. Just think how our lives would most likely be different if JFK had not been assasinated in Dallas back in November of 1963. There is a little bit of sick humor present when you realize hat the man who placed an embargo on Cuban cigars that has been in effect for over 43 years was contemplating legalizing marijuana. Perhaps a larger lesson to be learned from this is how small changes can have large effect on your life as well as those around you. Think about what you do, particularly if it involves breaking the existing laws of our country and how it may have a lasting effect on you and those around you. If you don't like a law, work through the proper channels to have them changed. I personally do not and have never smoked any marijuana for reasons that are my own. I also do not participate in threesomes, cheat on my wife or juggle with venomous snakes, all things that would most likely be harmfull to me but I do not have a problem with other people that want to engage in such activities.  I also do not smoke cigarettes.   I do believe that it should either be legalized or decriminalized if for no other reason that there is no way to control a substance that the populace wants and can grow in their backyards or their houses. John Kennedy obviously saw the benefit in this plant, but sixty nine years of governmental predjudice and blinders to the truth have kept it illegal in this country. In 1937 it was made illegal for a number of trumped up, bullshit reasons, largely as a device to stop illegal immigration from Mexico and an attempt tocontrol the blacks as racial predjudice was rampant in the south. Well sixty-nine years later, the immigration problem is still with us and as bad or worse than it has ever been. Presidents Kennedy and Johnson took large strides to end racism in America. Perhaps President Kennedy would have ended the illegality of marijuana as well. Lets face it, those people who want to use this substance do so at the risk of being criminals, those that don't, don't. I doubt the number of people that use marijuana would change if it was legalized, we, as a country would just stop turning regualr citizens into criminals. More on this in the future. This is just my opinion and I could certainly be wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-6958344960808735341?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/6958344960808735341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=6958344960808735341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6958344960808735341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/6958344960808735341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/jfk-and-marijuana.html' title='JFK and Marijuana'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7565599714291404467.post-5627996383703743533</id><published>2006-12-13T12:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T15:36:10.892-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Me Generation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The sixties may have been the Pepsi &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;TM&lt;/span&gt; Generation but today is the Me Generation. People today are so self-absorbed with themselves that it is frightening. The young twenty-something’s in particular. Today we live in a society that is obsessed with instant gratification. People are always on their cell phones either talking, texting, checking their e-mail, or playing games. They don’t read the paper anymore or even listen to the news. They listen to their iPods so they can listen to only their favorite music, God forbid they should have to listen to something that isn't absolutely their favorite song, at least for today. To a large extent, if it doesn’t involve them, they don’t give a shit. Virtually everyone knows about the war in the Middle East but they really don’t know anything about it. It is just a different form of a video game that some unlucky people are involved in. In the sixties, everyone knew about the Viet Nam War and kept up with it on a daily basis. We knew the daily body counts even if they did turn out to be somewhat governmentally fabricated. Maybe the threat of the draft hanging over our heads caused us to have a sharper interest in the war. Today if you don’t sign up to play with the military, you aren’t involved. I read that president Bush’s popularity numbers are at an all time low low point and yet very few people openly protest the war. There aren't even any good protest songs being written today. It is probably because it would require them to do something. To take time away from themselves. Not everyone is this appethetic, my daughter and her husband are very concerned and have no problem protesting any number of causes where they preceive an injustice to humanity.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Thank God there are still a few that care. Caring about a cause gives you a reason for living. More people need to learn this fact.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The only thing a large portion of young people want to do today is entertain themselves with some form of self gratification. If it doesn’t involve having fun, then it isn’t important. I own a bar that closes at 2 am most mornings and almost every morning at 2, there is a large group of people who are trying to decide what they are going to do next. What party are they going to go to, are they just going to get more inebriated, get high, get laid, or some combination of the three. Some of them don't even wait to leave the bar, they make frequent sojourns out to the parking lot to smoke out and then are amazed when they come back in the bar reeking of marijuana and find out that I fully realize what they are doing. I may be old and slow, but I am not stupid. I am not contending that pot did not exist in the sixties, God knows it certainly did, but at least in this part of the country it was handled a little more clandestinely. We had our share of Potheads, but they knew what they were and didn't make excuses for themselves. They were not hypocritical about what they did and who they were. People today have this opinion that if you don't like what they are doing, then you are the one with the problem, not them. They never do anything wrong, you just incorrectly perceive it to be wrong. It is your problem, not theirs. There was a person that worked for me some time ago who used to complain that their professor would continually count them late or absent for his class and frequently give this person a grade of zero because they were not there when a test began. Now I knew that this was the first class of the day for this individual but when I asked them what the time the class began and I found out that it began at noon, any sympathy I had for them went out the window. If you can't regularly make it to class by noon, then maybe you are wasting your time and money in college. In the sixties, most college students went through school in four years, now the norm seems to be closer to the six, seven or eight year plan. People routinely sign up for classes spending tens of thousands of dollars of their parents money amd then when they find that classes interfere with their own private schedules, they drop th classes or just quit going to class. The employee that I mentioned earlier is now 24, I believe, started college at 18 and now has acquired a sophomore classification after six or seven years in school. What is worse, is that they see nothing abnormal about this situation. In the sixties, this would not happen because if you fucked up, Uncle Sam was waiting and more than willing to give you a job. Today there is no penalty for bad behavior. We dare not say anything to them because we might damage their precious self esteem. We must be politically correct. If they practice unsafe sex and get pregnant and need an abortion, it's not their fault. We need to learn to acommidate them while they are inconvenienced. It was too much trouble to wear a condom or remember to take a pill. It seems to me that the sixties were the Pepsi generation, hippies spent their time trying to make the world a better place, trying to understand themselves and others and believed in peace and love. Today the Me generation believes in themselves, don't care about others, and if you don't or can't love THEM, just as they are, then Fuck you. Here-in lies the problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7565599714291404467-5627996383703743533?l=thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/feeds/5627996383703743533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7565599714291404467&amp;postID=5627996383703743533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/5627996383703743533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7565599714291404467/posts/default/5627996383703743533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehiddenhippie.blogspot.com/2006/12/me-generation.html' title='The Me Generation'/><author><name>The Hidden Hippie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00088278152041055938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
