Summer of Love
It was 1967 and we were on our way to San Francisco
“If you’re going to San-fran-cisco…be sure to wear some flowers in your hair…”
Benji sucked in another hit and rolled over, ass in the air. Bad enough he was sprawled in the back of the bus, buck-naked under his chaps and mooning whoever walked by the open side-door, but his yodeling rendition of Phillip’s monster hit was drawing attention. The wrong kind.
Not that the locals weren’t already giving us the hairy eye-ball — a bunch of long-haired, bead-wearing, fringe-swinging, peace-sign-flashing, gen-u-ine hippies in a rainbow, flower-powered, VW micro-bus. Probably the first ever to hit town.
“If you’re going to San Francisco…you’re gonna meet some gentle people there.”
It was our theme song. Benji, Charlie, Ariel and me, Scotty Granger from Podunk, Missouri, bound for Haight-Ashbury, to turn on, tune in and drop out.
Just over half-way there, we’d decided to stop for the night in this dusty, quiet little town. We parked outside ‘Watkins & Sons Confectionery’ to grab a few essentials before heading to the Rotary Park Campgrounds. According to the bill-board on the way in, it offered ‘clean rest-rooms and reasonable overnight rates’. On our budget, reasonable was always a bonus.
