The Age of Teaquarius will never sound so sweet.

Actually…I’m 56 years old and this is the kind of pap that makes me totally embarrassed for boomers who go on about how across-the-board great 60’s music was.

Signed, Mr. Bad Vibes.

Now that hippie punching is off the front page, does this mean that that thread will finally die? I’m a little scared to look…

Ooh!  I’m sorry. I should have said:

Signed, Mr. Hippie Puncher.

I’m a little scared to look…

It’s shuffled off its mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibule.

It is an ex-thread.

Well, it lives on in pixelly aspic and legend. But comments are closed.

Signed, Mr. Bad Vibes.

I’m getting up there but I have fond memories of leaping around to “Let the Sunshine in” in Kindergarten. So ppbbffft!

does this mean that that thread will finally die?

The thread has been closed, shot with a silver bullet, given a garlic enema and had two holy water soaked stakes driven through its heart. It ... won’t be back to ... What’s that noise?

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! ~*

I was in an evening of Samuel Beckett short plays many years ago. It was our final dress rehearsal, and a critic for the local NPR station asked if he could attend, as it was the only chance he’d have to see it. We told him sure, as long as he could forgive the fact that we were missing a few little bells and whistles that wouldn’t be in place until opening night—including our curtain-call music.

So we decided to sing this as we took our bows in our classic Beckett filthy trampwear.

He howled with laughter.

The year this song was on the charts was the year our washer went on the fritz, so we had to go out weekly to the laundromat. My sister and I would get our rare treat of a 5 cent bag of chips from the dépanneur next door. These were real paper bags with a thin silvery coating that actually tore when you opened them, not the crinkly plasticky stuff you get now. And this song would play at least once on every trip, either on the radio or our dad’s 8 track.

I like it. Hippies are cool!

Wow—waving my peace-sign about halfway in, until the end. For me, that’s memories of listening to “Freedom Rock” compilations with my folks and quietly imbibing a spirit of a generation I’m not of, but spiritually felt *with*.

I don’t know if it’s corny or de trop, I just like it. Sure, it’s blatantly spacy and “significant” and pop-y and innocent and if I listen objectively, it wouldn’t be my cup of Jamaican-grown French Roast java. But memories of my parents sharing their youth (my dad listening to Steppenwolf at a base in Okinawa, my mom helping brown acid freak-outs at Woodstock—no, seriously!) with me makes me understand why my baby pictures show my mom looking spaced-out as a coot and my dad and all his friends with more hair than you could shake a stick at. They got turned on and tuned in.

But none of ‘em actually tuned out.

” go on about how across-the-board great 60’s music was.”

Show tunes (“Hair”) don’t count.

It apparently offends Mr. Hippie Puncher that this pop single, a vocal group cover of a medley of songs from a Broadway show about hippies, has the nerve to proclaim itself emblematic of 60s music in a language that only he hears.

99 Luftballoons!

Forked Tongue, try the original version of “Let the Sunshine In.”

It is also the point in the movie where people have to be restrained from slitting their wrists. I heard the 5th Dimension version 100,000 times growing up and didn’t see the movie until I was 20 (?) Yikes. Bummer.

99 Luftballoons!

If you post that video, I will buy a new pair of boots, kick your ass with them, and then have them bronzed and placed on display.

Hair is actually a really good musical. It was on Broadway and performed across the country before it was made into a movie. I never saw the movie but did see it onstage in San Francisco.  A lot of good music came out of it - “Easy to be Hard” comes to mind particularly.  It was actually revived on Broadway last year and won a Tony.

99 Luftballoons!

Ah, junior high school band. It had some great trumpet parts.

Sorry,I can’t get behind ‘Hair’, if I was alive back then(wasn’t born until ‘71)

Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical was touring the country in 1971 the year you were born.

I sang this in the “Swing Choir,” my Senior Year of High School (Go Raiders, class of 1970!) An exclusive little offshoot of the Choral Society - we were cutting edge, man!  But we really did rock the second half of this little tune .... ah, memories.