It started out innocently enough in a time when it was mandatory for a woman’s legs to be strapped in stirrups and men still paced waiting rooms with a pocket full of cigars. It was 1968, the year Lyndon B. Johnson escalated the Vietnam War only to be replaced by “Tricky Dick”. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his famous “Mountaintop” speech only to be assassinated later at the Lorrain Motel in Memphis, gas was $0.34 a gallon and Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da off the newly released the Beatles’ White Album played on car stereos across the country. It was a year of love and hate: a year of peace and war; it was the year I was born.
<to be continued>
* As part of this Blog Challenge I had to complete the first paragraph to the story of my life. This was the result of that effort
A great start! Can’t wait to read more, if you choose to write more.
So you were born during the “hippy” era? Ah i grew up wishing I was born during that time.. .i felt so out of place in my generation ( i was born 1988). I had ( still have I hope) the free spirit of a hippy. Actually my first blog was called the diary of a hippy and i used to post pieces from my personal paper journal and call them Hippy Diary Excerpts . Hmmm , I’ve been wanting to pick up my paper journal again, maybe I will start that back up!
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Yes the “love” culture! I actually wish I could have been a late teen or young adult during that time. I am a complete and udder hippy. It is who I am. Maybe that is why I am an activist? It’s in my gene culture :p
I will probably continue writing on it a little at a time and yes you should pick up that paper journal and get crackin’ missy!
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