Great weekend
Went to No Doubt. AWESOME. No backbends, but they're all still as crazy as ever...running around, jumping on the props, pounding on drums. Shirley Manson made a surprise appearance during a cover of "Stand and Deliver," and Laura and I nearly fell over the railing with excitement.
Got a bed! Also AWESOME. It's so comfortable, and I woke up this morning with many fewer cricks in my neck and back.
Watched a documentary called "Commune" about a bunch of hippies who started a...well...commune in Northern California, up near a town called Yreka, which is about an hour-ish south of Ashland. I have to say, I was pretty disappointed in this documentary. Not only was it a great opportunity for a comprehensive documentation of hippie culture (for real, not just the wax poetic nostalgic stuff the ex-hippies do), but there are some really dramatic stories that just get glossed over. There are relationships forced underground by the commune's "rules" (aren't counterculture people supposed to be against rules?); a run-in with a really messed-up other hippie group called the Shiva Lila, which basically kidnapped children under the guise of "worshipping" them and took them to India where a bunch of the kids died from diphtheria; communal parenting, where the kids really had no steady family or support system; and a really cool survival story of the commune's first winter where they practically died from not being prepared for the six feet of snow.
You know, I really like the 1960s and think it was a fantastically important period of history, but COME ON! Haven't we moved passed treating these communes like bastions of freedom? I mean, no this group wasn't like the Manson Family and they weren't child molesters or bad guys or anything like that. But let's get real: The commune made its way financially because the women with kids collected welfare checks. Most of the commune's members came from upper middle class or solid middle class homes. The kids didn't go to school. "Free love" really just meant "orgy," and they all got high anytime they were "lucky enough" for someone to bring in some drugs. I'm all for running around naked if you feel like it (well, not around me, but in your commune is fine), letting your kids play in the creek (though I'd don't approve of toddlers traipsing through the woods unattended), and free thought. But there are two sides to every story, and the only people in this movie that really offered a slightly negative view were two people now about my age who were kids on the commune: One was five when she was asked if she wanted to move to India with her mother. She just said she wanted to be with her mom (as five-year-olds do), so off they went, wherein she was left with the child snatchers while the babies died of disease; I don't know what happened to her mother, but the girl eventually ended up in...wait for it...Ashland. The second dissenting voice belonged to the son of the commune's founders who rebelled by cutting his hair in a crew cut, moving to San Francisco, and becoming a neuroscientist. I liked him the best.
I think this movie was supposed to make you respect the commune's independence, but I swear, it just made me more annoyed at dirty, self-indulgent hippies who don't wear shoes.
Speaking of which, have you all heard that some of the Manson killers want parole...AGAIN? Supposedly, Squeaky Fromme is getting out, which...I don't know. I guess that's all right. She didn't actually do anything violent, just threatened it. But the others? I read a story from one of their lawyers (about Susan Atkins, I think, the one who actually killed Sharon Tate) that they're so sorry and they've apologized a bunch of times and it's been 40 years so they should get clemency. I'm sure it sucks to be in prison forever and maybe they are even sorry and feel really bad. But say what? There are some things sorry just doesn't cut it for. And anyway, most of them would be dead by now if California hadn't gone through that death penalty/no death penalty/death penalty phase. So why should they get parole?
Got a bed! Also AWESOME. It's so comfortable, and I woke up this morning with many fewer cricks in my neck and back.
Watched a documentary called "Commune" about a bunch of hippies who started a...well...commune in Northern California, up near a town called Yreka, which is about an hour-ish south of Ashland. I have to say, I was pretty disappointed in this documentary. Not only was it a great opportunity for a comprehensive documentation of hippie culture (for real, not just the wax poetic nostalgic stuff the ex-hippies do), but there are some really dramatic stories that just get glossed over. There are relationships forced underground by the commune's "rules" (aren't counterculture people supposed to be against rules?); a run-in with a really messed-up other hippie group called the Shiva Lila, which basically kidnapped children under the guise of "worshipping" them and took them to India where a bunch of the kids died from diphtheria; communal parenting, where the kids really had no steady family or support system; and a really cool survival story of the commune's first winter where they practically died from not being prepared for the six feet of snow.
You know, I really like the 1960s and think it was a fantastically important period of history, but COME ON! Haven't we moved passed treating these communes like bastions of freedom? I mean, no this group wasn't like the Manson Family and they weren't child molesters or bad guys or anything like that. But let's get real: The commune made its way financially because the women with kids collected welfare checks. Most of the commune's members came from upper middle class or solid middle class homes. The kids didn't go to school. "Free love" really just meant "orgy," and they all got high anytime they were "lucky enough" for someone to bring in some drugs. I'm all for running around naked if you feel like it (well, not around me, but in your commune is fine), letting your kids play in the creek (though I'd don't approve of toddlers traipsing through the woods unattended), and free thought. But there are two sides to every story, and the only people in this movie that really offered a slightly negative view were two people now about my age who were kids on the commune: One was five when she was asked if she wanted to move to India with her mother. She just said she wanted to be with her mom (as five-year-olds do), so off they went, wherein she was left with the child snatchers while the babies died of disease; I don't know what happened to her mother, but the girl eventually ended up in...wait for it...Ashland. The second dissenting voice belonged to the son of the commune's founders who rebelled by cutting his hair in a crew cut, moving to San Francisco, and becoming a neuroscientist. I liked him the best.
I think this movie was supposed to make you respect the commune's independence, but I swear, it just made me more annoyed at dirty, self-indulgent hippies who don't wear shoes.
Speaking of which, have you all heard that some of the Manson killers want parole...AGAIN? Supposedly, Squeaky Fromme is getting out, which...I don't know. I guess that's all right. She didn't actually do anything violent, just threatened it. But the others? I read a story from one of their lawyers (about Susan Atkins, I think, the one who actually killed Sharon Tate) that they're so sorry and they've apologized a bunch of times and it's been 40 years so they should get clemency. I'm sure it sucks to be in prison forever and maybe they are even sorry and feel really bad. But say what? There are some things sorry just doesn't cut it for. And anyway, most of them would be dead by now if California hadn't gone through that death penalty/no death penalty/death penalty phase. So why should they get parole?