Good heavens (pun very much intended)! I mean, I never went to a flower boot camp or anything, but this is just a hilarious read. The closest I ever got to them, was a neighbour who flipped her lid completely in the 60s. Had flowers and grass (not weed
) on her kids birthday cake and all, and she would become even more unglued if we didn't eat the stuff.
The grossest unwillingly satire of hippies I've ever seen was at the Roskilde festival some 15 years back. Kids away from home for the first time, 15 years old talking about woodstock as if they ever went there. It was bleeding pathetic. Newly bought robes and sandals, costing only a fortune at the local mall. Coughing over that pipe and wheezing out pre-rehearshed phrases like "good sh*t". I never went back there.