1960s: Death of the Hippie
Carl's birthday is, in spite of the constant fighting between brothers, a general success. Susan loves that aunty Barbs is there, as she's the coolest adult she knows, and Carl looks forward to presents, and to finally turning 15! Michael won't be able to call him immature and a baby once he's 15! ("Of course I can! You're still younger than me!")
Dinner is appreciated by everyone, and then its time to blow out the candles and everyone gather near or in the kitchen to sing to the birthday boy who pretends it's embarrassing while secretly being pleased.
And so Carl the child turns into Carl the teenager. Unlike his brother, Carl does not opt for the longer hairs of his decade, keeping it short and tidy, saying that he needs it short when enlistning. "That might be, but you're not enlistning as long as you're still in high school," his father says sharply, praying that the war is over before then. While the others are grabbing cake, Betty gives Carl his present.
As they leave the girls to play and take a seat outside in the shade, Arthur cannot help but ask - about the what went on in San Sequoia, and why she was gone from Abby for so long, and why she came before things were over. "Wasn't it as fun as you thought it would be?"
"It was. It was better. And had I been 20 and not had her nothing would have torn me away. Yes the neighborhood is dirtier, more crowded, overwhelmed even. I have people pitching tents outside my house and found sleeping bags on my roof. But at 20? 25? I don't think I would have minded, well maybe a little, but not as much. Either way, it's no place for her, and I can't be without her."
"But you're going back?"
"Yes! I can't live with mom and dad for much longer. I'm going insane. So, yes, I'll return. Scope things out, see if there is a solution to the overcrowding and commercialization. It will work out."
Over the next few days, life moves on as usual. Audie tries to keep up with her fitness with the help of the TV.
Dinner is appreciated by everyone, and then its time to blow out the candles and everyone gather near or in the kitchen to sing to the birthday boy who pretends it's embarrassing while secretly being pleased.
And so Carl the child turns into Carl the teenager. Unlike his brother, Carl does not opt for the longer hairs of his decade, keeping it short and tidy, saying that he needs it short when enlistning. "That might be, but you're not enlistning as long as you're still in high school," his father says sharply, praying that the war is over before then. While the others are grabbing cake, Betty gives Carl his present.
But Carl is not the only one with a birthday soon. Cindy is about to start school in the fall, and Arthur and Audie are both busy preparing her for the big change. There are lots of hugs, lots of playing with educational toys and lots of time spent with flash cards.
Although they are trying to make sure Cindy is as ready for school as she can be, Arthur still takes the chance to invite his favourite sister over now that she's in town for a while.
"You'll come for Cindy's birthday, won't you, Barbs?" he asks. "You're not going back yet?"
"Of course I'll come," Barbara says. "We both will."
Although they are trying to make sure Cindy is as ready for school as she can be, Arthur still takes the chance to invite his favourite sister over now that she's in town for a while.
"You'll come for Cindy's birthday, won't you, Barbs?" he asks. "You're not going back yet?"
"Of course I'll come," Barbara says. "We both will."
As they leave the girls to play and take a seat outside in the shade, Arthur cannot help but ask - about the what went on in San Sequoia, and why she was gone from Abby for so long, and why she came before things were over. "Wasn't it as fun as you thought it would be?"
"It was. It was better. And had I been 20 and not had her nothing would have torn me away. Yes the neighborhood is dirtier, more crowded, overwhelmed even. I have people pitching tents outside my house and found sleeping bags on my roof. But at 20? 25? I don't think I would have minded, well maybe a little, but not as much. Either way, it's no place for her, and I can't be without her."
"But you're going back?"
"Yes! I can't live with mom and dad for much longer. I'm going insane. So, yes, I'll return. Scope things out, see if there is a solution to the overcrowding and commercialization. It will work out."
Over the next few days, life moves on as usual. Audie tries to keep up with her fitness with the help of the TV.
The girls spend almost every waking moment in the pool.
And then it's finally Cindy's birthday! Audie has been preparing a large bbq for the entire family, and baked strawberry cake for her youngest daughter. The warm weather means all kids start the party off by jumping into the pool while the adults are boring, talking away indoors. But then it's time to eat, and after that time for Cindy to blow out her candles.
And then it's finally Cindy's birthday! Audie has been preparing a large bbq for the entire family, and baked strawberry cake for her youngest daughter. The warm weather means all kids start the party off by jumping into the pool while the adults are boring, talking away indoors. But then it's time to eat, and after that time for Cindy to blow out her candles.
And even if Cindy now has a room of her own, she and Abby still sneak into the twins room to play with their dollhouse as the others are partying outside.
As soon as Cindy's birthday is over, Barbara heads back home to San Sequoia. As they arrive, Abby runs through the house, greeting each room and asking if they missed her. Getting hold of paints in mommy's studio, she proceeds to "make art" on the floor. Instead of being angry, like grandma would have been, Barbara praises her for her lovely art, not minding in the slightest.
Abby loves being at home again! (But she still miss grandma and grandpa.)
As soon as Cindy's birthday is over, Barbara heads back home to San Sequoia. As they arrive, Abby runs through the house, greeting each room and asking if they missed her. Getting hold of paints in mommy's studio, she proceeds to "make art" on the floor. Instead of being angry, like grandma would have been, Barbara praises her for her lovely art, not minding in the slightest.
Abby loves being at home again! (But she still miss grandma and grandpa.)
That evening, everyone in the block comes over, filling the house just like Abby remembers. The food is vegetarian, and the mood is high, but Abby does wonder a bit about the people sleeping in tents outside. "Why are they, mommy? Can't they just sleep here?"
"They prefer the tent, they're having fun," Barbara tells her.
But it is a problem that the area is so dirty and overcrowded. At home it's good, but outside is no place for Abby to run free. So the next day, Barbara takes Abby out to Hopewell Hills across the bridge. It's a boringly suburban neighborhood, but with a big beautiful park and playground, perfect for Abby to play and climb in. Barbara smiles as she sees Abby take off in front of her.
They spend the day here, playing in the park and enjoying the fresh air. This might not be Barbara's choice of scene, but for Abby, this is paradise.
"They prefer the tent, they're having fun," Barbara tells her.
But it is a problem that the area is so dirty and overcrowded. At home it's good, but outside is no place for Abby to run free. So the next day, Barbara takes Abby out to Hopewell Hills across the bridge. It's a boringly suburban neighborhood, but with a big beautiful park and playground, perfect for Abby to play and climb in. Barbara smiles as she sees Abby take off in front of her.
They spend the day here, playing in the park and enjoying the fresh air. This might not be Barbara's choice of scene, but for Abby, this is paradise.
It's also Abby that finds the "for sale"-sign outside a little house. Checking to see if it is open, and eventually finding the key under a rock, Barbara lets herself in.
She's not exactly overwhelmed. It's plain. Boring. Suburban. But it has potential - and a huge yard for Abby to run around in. She could grow her own food, here, paint in peace, and it's still close enough to the city that she could easily take a bus there whenever she wanted to.
She's not exactly overwhelmed. It's plain. Boring. Suburban. But it has potential - and a huge yard for Abby to run around in. She could grow her own food, here, paint in peace, and it's still close enough to the city that she could easily take a bus there whenever she wanted to.
Maybe it's just a whim, but Barbs has always acted on her whims. She calls the agents the same day and close the deal with the help of the money Alice gave her and has refused to take back. If this is not the right thing to spend it on, she doesn't know what is.
Over the rest of the summer, Barbara is busy. While she hears the music from the park, and hears the many flower children on the streets, she's packing up the house and removing her murals from the walls. The neighbors run in and out of the house as they've always done, but less so now that there is less to do in the house other than to help Barbs pack up.
Over the rest of the summer, Barbara is busy. While she hears the music from the park, and hears the many flower children on the streets, she's packing up the house and removing her murals from the walls. The neighbors run in and out of the house as they've always done, but less so now that there is less to do in the house other than to help Barbs pack up.
On their last night, Barbara and Abby eat sitting in the sofa or on the floor now that all the furniture is packed.
And then it's time for the actual move. Excited and hopeful, Barbara brings Abby to their new house. But Abby can't see what Barbara sees, instead she just sees a boring stupid house and start crying.
"It will be better, I promise," Abby says, and gets right to painting the walls and fixing things up, while Abby is left to play in the garden or "help" as much as she can.
There is more to be done than add paint, however. The refrigerator isn't working, the tiles in the bathrooms needs changing, there are furniture to place. "Did you get a complete wreck?" her mother asks her on the phone. "What else do you think I'll be able to afford?" Barbara answers. But it is true that the house is stretching her skills to the limit. The way she sees it, though, is that it's her time to get friendly with the house, get to know it, get to see it flourish after years of neglect.
The house is still in gentle chaos, when the new neighbors comes to visit. "You need some lights in here," her neighbor Phyllis says. "I could borrow you some until you have time to arrange for them yourself." And so the house start feeling a bit more like home, filled with people, even if its not Barbara's usual crowd. They're a bit too neatly dressed, a bit older, there is a lot less slang and grove, but they seem friendly.
Abby likes the new people, they, like most people, are happy to play with her and shower her with attention.
And so a mural starts taking form, and furniture goes in, and lights, and art and little by little, this house too start feeling like a home.
As summer turns to fall, Barbara invites her old friends over for dinner, and once more her house is filled by music, laughter and people who share her way of life and her values.
"I like the vibe," Lisa says. "Not hip perhaps, but genuine."
"Yeah, you can be yourself here, man."
"Just go with the flow, relax, live in tune with nature. Cool."
"You're coming to the funeral, though, right?"
"The death of the hippie? Of course!" Barbara answers. While she has been wrapped up in working on the house, she has not been living under a rock. She knows there are many people leaving the city - just like her - in the "back to the land"-movement. Others are just moving, or getting jobs, or are just disappointed with how commercialized the movement they've loved has become. "We need to mark the end of it, of course we do."
The organised march to mark the end of the summer of love is a surprisingly quiet affair. Even though they are hundreds of people marching from Celebration Square to Celebration Way Park, its not noisy. The organisers have been clear - this is a funeral, not a party, and people act as such.
With them they carry a coffin, filled with beads, flowers, shaved beards, things that used to signal their community, but which is now mostly commercial fashion. Once in the park, the organisers say a few words: “Celebration was portioned to us by the media-police, and the tourists came to the zoo to see the captive animals, and we growled fiercely behind the bars we accepted, and now we are no longer hippies and never were.” There is a sadness in the air, then a bonfire. A lot of things that aren't vietnam draft orders get burned. Barbara burn nothing, but find herself wishing something like this had been arranged for the Beat generation. Instead they allowed it to fizzle out into nothingness and into this - this experience that they were hosting a funeral for.
Once it is over they clean, and then they go home. For Barbara, she's glad that home is now somewhere quiet.
The house is still in gentle chaos, when the new neighbors comes to visit. "You need some lights in here," her neighbor Phyllis says. "I could borrow you some until you have time to arrange for them yourself." And so the house start feeling a bit more like home, filled with people, even if its not Barbara's usual crowd. They're a bit too neatly dressed, a bit older, there is a lot less slang and grove, but they seem friendly.
Abby likes the new people, they, like most people, are happy to play with her and shower her with attention.
And so a mural starts taking form, and furniture goes in, and lights, and art and little by little, this house too start feeling like a home.
As summer turns to fall, Barbara invites her old friends over for dinner, and once more her house is filled by music, laughter and people who share her way of life and her values.
"I like the vibe," Lisa says. "Not hip perhaps, but genuine."
"Yeah, you can be yourself here, man."
"Just go with the flow, relax, live in tune with nature. Cool."
"You're coming to the funeral, though, right?"
"The death of the hippie? Of course!" Barbara answers. While she has been wrapped up in working on the house, she has not been living under a rock. She knows there are many people leaving the city - just like her - in the "back to the land"-movement. Others are just moving, or getting jobs, or are just disappointed with how commercialized the movement they've loved has become. "We need to mark the end of it, of course we do."
The organised march to mark the end of the summer of love is a surprisingly quiet affair. Even though they are hundreds of people marching from Celebration Square to Celebration Way Park, its not noisy. The organisers have been clear - this is a funeral, not a party, and people act as such.
With them they carry a coffin, filled with beads, flowers, shaved beards, things that used to signal their community, but which is now mostly commercial fashion. Once in the park, the organisers say a few words: “Celebration was portioned to us by the media-police, and the tourists came to the zoo to see the captive animals, and we growled fiercely behind the bars we accepted, and now we are no longer hippies and never were.” There is a sadness in the air, then a bonfire. A lot of things that aren't vietnam draft orders get burned. Barbara burn nothing, but find herself wishing something like this had been arranged for the Beat generation. Instead they allowed it to fizzle out into nothingness and into this - this experience that they were hosting a funeral for.
Once it is over they clean, and then they go home. For Barbara, she's glad that home is now somewhere quiet.
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