Summer of Love 50 Years Later

img_1511.jpgLast week the latest AARP magazine (a magazine for the 50+ set) arrived in our mail box complete with a Peter Max Cover.  It was a celebratory issue of the 50 year anniversary of the Summer of Love 1967.  I was woodstock-art-568933_1920stunned.  Could it have been that long ago when I was an awkward teenager in the Bay Area of San Francisco trying to find my way?  It was a time of great excitement & energy that perhaps the youth could change the world for the better.  “Don’t trust anyone over 30” was the motto.  I am in my 60’s now.  Where did it all go?

 

50th ANNIVERSARY

It was post war

I mean the Second World War

My white generation made its appearance

With the “Leave it to Beaver” show & Betty Crocker

We were entertained by black & white TV

Glued to the Ed Sullivan Show on Sunday evenings

While eating red jello for dessert

 

It was a coming of age to weed, flower children, Rock & Roll, the Beatles

Rose colored glasses, Woodstock, tie dye, bell bottoms

Long hair, the Vietnam War, anti-war demonstrations, peace-love

Free love, Women’s Lib, anti-establishment

Back-to-the-land, and Save-the-Earth passion

 

Where did it all go?

Lost in this world of capitalism and intolerance?

We have blended into the mix of other generations

A thin strata of history

The idealism disappearing with the passing of years

 

Now, lost in a sea of gray hair

I strain to hear those hopeful voices I once knew

Above the din of racism and selfishness

Where did it all go?

As we celebrate the 50th anniversary

Of the Summer of Love

peace-2422719_1920

 

When I’m 64

the-beatles-509069_1920It was 1967.  I was 14 years old and a  freshman in high school.  The Beatles had come out with their latest album “Yellow Submarine.”  Mixed in amongst other memorable songs was this one…

“When I’m Sixty Four”

When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I’d been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four?

Continue reading “When I’m 64”