The Flower Child in Us All

Sunday.  Temperatures are warmer this weekend than they have been for quite a while.  The blast of snow from a week or so ago is becoming a memory as we can see green grass again.  It’s been jam-packed weekends spent at a few music stores and picking up something we haven’t before – a mineral lick and corn for the deer that sometimes visit us.  I’m picking up the guitar almost daily, especially now that I jacked my card up again with the purchase of a Martin DRS1 and an Epiphone Emperor Swingster in wine red (which sort of makes up for having to sell my previous Epiphone years ago).

Got my taxes done on Saturday, and as I’m leaving the accountant’s office, he made a statement, “You’re a flower child.”  It struck me as odd at first that he would make a connection like that, but then thinking of my age, I guess it was a semi-obvious observation.  He then mentioned something about the bell-bottoms I had worn the previous year which actually were just wide-leg slacks.  If he only knew about my Martin Hippie guitar, how I wear peace symbol earrings a lot, and that I used to end all of my letters (back in the day when we actually used to mail handwritten letters via the Post Office) with “Pax”.  Yeah, I’m a flower child I guess, although I wasn’t even a teenager when it all started back in the 60’s.

Sure, I used to draw everything that was late 60’s and early 70’s – paisley designs, bold black and white patterns, groovy chicks with groovy mini-skirts and white go-go boots and long, flowing hair.  I used to wear headbands in school and in the early days of working in an office.  It was the style, at least for us hip-chicks wannabes.  I loved wearing bell-bottoms (still would if I could find some) and ponchos.  I wanted to sing in coffee houses and write songs that would strike a deep emotion in people.  I wanted to write the Great American Novel and make some kind of impact in the world.

But priorities change as we mature and grow older.

Am I any different than anyone else?  No.  Everyone has dreams and aspirations.  There are not all the same, but no matter what they are we strive for them – until something changes in our lives or ourselves.

I think we all have a kind of flower child in us at some point in our lives.  Something that drives us to make a difference.  Something that makes us want to be artistic, soulful, political, outspoken, a leader … whatever it is you call your own.

I don’t usually like labels, but I’m cool with being known as a Flower Child.

Peace, baby!