Well sir, as I begin to pack to move away from the snooty part of town I worry that I'm not much better prepared to fit in with the hipsters. First of all, how has the term taken on a derogatory twist? Oh, I suppose it always happens.
The beats quickly became the butt of their own cosmic joke. Heck, I still want to be a beatnik. Of course the term hippie pretty quickly became "dirty" hippie. Excuse me but what's so funny about peace, love and understanding?
Now I see all the pretty young moms pushing their well scrubbed babies up and down the aisles in Publix in my new neighborhood. Their tattoos are exemplary and some of their piercings are incredible. Their partners with their fedoras and black t-shirts are looking for the new local brews on the shelves.
We all need to fit in, to be part of some tribe, somewhere.
I didn't do this particular photo-joke of me. You can give credit to my pal, John Fullbright. If he weren't from Oklahoma, he'd qualify as a hipster.