This was also the time we began to hear about opposition to the Viet Nam war. But we were so bombarded by government propaganda about the "Russians" invading their rebellious states that nobody listened. However, this time we could see the pictures. And we also began to actually see hippies, which were just as often called "dirty beatniks".
Here is one of the typical pictures of the day. Yes, color TV or not, many of these photos were still broadcast in black and white. This included Life magazine, the only other major source of news for us. Time Magazine existed, but it was too "eastern". I was not the only kid who viewed New York and anything close to it as a festering rat hole of politicians on the take. But undeniably, these photos were beginning to bring current events into real focus. We all knew trouble was brewing. We did not know we were the last generation of free Americans.
Back to the present. JZ and I went to Redlands in the morning, then for breakfast on Dixie Hwy. Of course, we talked about women, or the lack of them in this town. JZ was raised here and somehow has managed to meet less women than me. He hits in his way on every woman, while I am more selective, particularly when it comes to drugs, divorce, and dollars. (Also, he is more flash than I, he is best at buying women drinks, where most women never find out I have money until after they commit.) I don't like money-oriented women, JZ doesn't mind them at all.
Then again, I don't get a four-figure monthly allowance for life, but overlook that for now. It is clear we are, between us, meeting less than one new woman per week. That's pitiful. When I play in a band, I'm used to ten times that. And the universities these days discourage part-time day students. Yes, JZ, I used to go to school all the time to meet better quality women. It works like a charm.
Author's note 2014: the completeness of this day's post is due to an excellent calendar entry that long-ago Sunday. JZ grew up around the Redlands, the most rural community that still exists in this area. That's because it is on the distant road to the Keys and anyone going that direction is likely headed further. But our discussion centered on why nice guys like us were finishing last. I had long ago quit blaming myself. I had also advised JZ to learn to play music and have many times volunteered to teach him.
Paradoxically, he'd be the right kind of guitar player, one who never gave a hoot about what he sounded like as long as everyone was having a good time. Yet in the end, he never took the offer. Instead, we tried many other tactics, such as attending single's dances and parties. As a team, we were successful there, but he never pursued that either. Also, he tended to latch onto the first gal who showed any interest and I say beware of easy prey. We definitely work best as a team.
