Can’t You Tell I’m a Pseudo-Hippie?

I went to see Rebelution and Umphrey’s Mcgee last night.

Theatre at Westbury...rotating stage=sex.

The crowd was exactly what I expected – minus the creepy fat old Italian men who set up a nitrous balloon stand right next to my car. It reminded me of college, of my friends and the good music that was a consistent catalyst to fun, singing, dancing, raging…all around good times.

After Rebelution was done I stepped out for a cigarette. (I don’t judge you, so don’t judge me ;p ) On my way back in my friend and I encountered this dude…he looked like this chick minus the arm warmers?:

He was a your typical Long Island guy. My friend and I are just your averagely dressed people. Anyway this dude strolls up to us and loudly aka yelling-ly states, “What the f*#@ is with all these hippies. They hear this music and think oh lets go well – ya know – know what all these hippies are just loser –  f*#@!n loser tool bags.”

I tried to tell him that he was actually the tool bag – but he defintely didn’t hear me. He seemed to be one of those arrogant dudes who would have gone at war with me if he did. Guidos hate me, it’s a fact.

Urban dictionary’s definition of tool bag: “Someone who thinks of themselves as a higher and more important being.” —> Interesting, Mr. Guido – seems you’ve found yourself in a predicament – judging sects of people and believing you are above the rest actually makes you a tool bag,  not that we couldn’t tell from the v-neck or the hat.

Anyway – this post is just to thank “hippies” for being hippies. Thanks for being my friends, introducing me to awesome music, making me (Dad), oozing optimism and open-mindedness, introducing me to the beauty of nature,  not judging based on appearance or smell and for throwing some of the sickest parties I have ever been to.

And now watch this video of an old/great friend of mine and pee your pants. I like to call it An Ode to Long Island Mothers.

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