Hippy House

A friend once said my family lives like hippies. Dear readers, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was something only a friend could say. Close friends will always tell you the truth.  That’s why we keep them close.

The friendly observation was, on several counts, true. Furthermore, I consider our friend’s label as a badge of honour. It was a flash of clarity and perception only someone well acquainted with our family could level.

I am not entirely certain how our friend defines ‘hippy.’  Our mate tends to have right-leaning political views and certainly devours a daily ration of a well known xenophobic newspaper published to quench the thirst of Little England. Therefore they are probably more likely to equate hippies with new age travellers. (Or come to think of it ANYONE who looks/thinks differently to the news editors and therefore has disrespect for the memory of Princess Diana and cares nothing if immigration is driving down house prices in suburbia).

I think it would be more accurate to say our family has the heart of a hippy, but I am not sure. Therefore I thought it best to examine the evidence in today’s blog.

My understanding of a hippy is someone who grew out of New York’s hipsters; the bohemian arts movement of the late 1950s. It was an alternative life-style, a reaction to conservative America. The bohemians enjoyed modern art, poetry and folk music.           VERDICT: Guilty on this count, m’Lud

The bohemians swapped their Film Noire attire for the flamboyance of 1960s fashion. They wore bell-bottom jeans and flowery shirts, they had long hair and wore sandals. I hate sandals.  VERDICT: NOT Guilty on this count, m’Lud

Hippies would never call themselves such. They believed in ‘being aware.’ In this they were natural supporters of counter-culture.   VERDICT: Guilty on this count, m’Lud

Health food is the staple of hippes. No need to extrapolate, unless peanut M&Ms are health food. VERDICT: NOT Guilty on this count, m’Lud

Musical tastes for hippies would include Jimi Hendrix, Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, Buffallo Springfrield, Donavan, perhaps The Doors.  VERDICT: Guilty on this count, m’Lud

In 1967, Time magazine described the Code of the Hippy being "Do your own thing, wherever you have to do it and whenever you want. Drop out. Leave society as you have known it. Leave it utterly. Blow the mind of every straight person you can reach. Turn them on, if not to drugs, then to beauty, love, honesty, fun.” VERDICT: Guilty on this count, m’Lud

The King of the Hippies was Timothy Leary. He said, in 1967; Hippy is an establishment label for a profound, invisible, underground, evolutionary process. For every visible hippy, barefoot, beflowered, beaded, there are a thousand invisible members of the turned-on underground. Persons whose lives are tuned in to their inner vision, who are dropping out of the TV comedy of American Life.

VERDICT: Guilty on this count, m’Lud

The way to peace is through love and tolerance. Loving means accepting others as they are, giving them freedom to express themselves and not judging them based on appearances. This is the core of the hippie philosophy. –The Way of the Hippy

VERDICT: Guilty on this count, m’Lud

Even our youngest children are now of the age when their ethical code is evident. I find it interesting to see how much of our values will ‘stick’ and become part of their own moral fibre as adults. As expected, it is a mixed bag. All of them seem to have left-leaning political views but equally they are sold hook, line and sinker on the need for designer labels.  As they have got older, their friends tend to verbalise approval for our children’s upbringing. That has given our approach a certain kudos with our own kids and we live in hope they will replicate the experience with their own kids.

The same straight-talking friend I mentioned earlier recommended an article recently. The piece outlined the negative impact liberal parenting was having on the youth of today. In retort, I flicked through my well-thumbed copy of Khalil Gibran’s book The Prophet; “Our children come through us not from us.”

The truth is our kids will be a little bit hippy with a dash of Little England. That’s who they are turning out to be and that is fine by me. They make good decisions (on the whole) and I encourage them everyday to be first and foremost: happy. No coincidence, I think, that hippy and happy are separated only by a slivered vowel. 


Keep the Faith,


The Head