> Also I throw historically themed parties once or twice a year.


A few weekends ago in the unHamptons we went to a BE IN put on by a
group of 20-something hippie reenactors. Conga drums, guitars, protest
songs, tie-dye t-shirts and the word 'groovy'. We brought hot dogs and
buns. It was held at the camping area of the park renowned for the local
UFO crash (Google John Ford and Brookhaven UFO Crash).

Of the one and half odd dozen gathered in the dirt bare section of the
woods there was a fellow who had been in the SDS at Stoney Brook who was
publisher of political pamphlets with names like, "My Daisy Was
Irradiated and So Were You," or "My Head is So Full of Mad Thoughts I Am
Going To Lurch." The later proved, as best I could figure, to be the
author's autobiography of the hot & heavy SDS days that lead to the
formation of the *Blow The World* publishing house. We can only wish.
The pamphlets were laid out on a coat and they sold for $3.00 each or
whatever we could afford. I picked one up and the author proudly
informed me that he had written it. I told him I had figured as much. I
thought about asking for an autograph but by then he had gone off to hug
some artificial hippie girls. I read enough to figure out that besides
selling nearly unreadable political pamphlets that the guy, at least in
his late fifties, claims to support himself by selling poetry on the
subway. I felt bad. The unHampton kids seriously fingered a few of the
books, not often that they get to meet an author, then doled out their
dollars into the styrofoam coffee cup that had been provided. I could
see Revolution in the making. There was a short and scrappy kind of
fellow that was bouncing up and down singing protest songs out of key in
a smoke raspy voice between outbursts condemning the government and
telling us he had fought in the Big One. There was what looked to be
several escapees from an ugly person's fat farm complete with lip and
eyebrow rings and multi-colored dirty hair. The time on the permit ran
out and we all had to flee the scene. The BE IN retreated to an
all-nighter at Tod's house where they could go from acoustic to
electric. We went home where the mutt dogs ate the hot dog buns. Kathy
said it was nothing like Central Park in the 60's.

][<en

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