SAN FRANCISCO. After that Have paved my way among the homeless drugs on Taylor Street where a young woman stands and sings while another makes a pipe to smoke heroin, and a man sleeps double weight – he has already received his dose – I can finally enjoy being in the city of love.
When you go to San Francisco, make sure to have flowers in your hair, Scott McKenzie sang in 1967. It became the tune of the time.
Peace. Love. Flowers in the hair.
The music was my generation’s constant companion. The music shaped our identity. All you need is lovesang the Beatles.
Our identity was strong but chaotic. Communists in different letter combinations, hippies, sosses, green scales, liberals – the music united us all.
Our generation contained Everything you can imagine, and yet it was so homogeneous. We were united by faith in the future, the world was young and open, and we were convinced that we learned from the crime and stupidity of the past. We were wiser and wanted well.
Solidarity. Equality. Equality.
Can you say that our generation was “left”? Sure, why not. Everyone was left. The center parties were called Åsa-Nisse Marxists and the People’s Party Youth Federation FPU would have been considered purely extremist today.
San Francisco was the capital of love.
When I listen to the singing woman on the Gothic Gata, it strikes me that it is only now the 1960s disappear.
Paul McCartney is 83 years old, Ringo turned 85 this summer. Mick Jagger is 82, Keith Richards 81.
Grace Slick has turned 85. She was the singer in San Francisco’s most famous hippie group Jefferson Airplane. Wouldn’t you love somebody to love? You better find somebody to love. Love, love. She is now said to be sober and paints, most rabbits it seems when I check her online, a visual echo by Jefferson Airplanes drug song “White Rabbit”. One pill makes you larger/And one pill makes you small.
Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Eric Burdon are 84, Paul Simon 83. Van Morrison turns 80 on Sunday, year -old with Eric Clapton and Pete Townshend. 79-year-old Neil Young is pure youth, not to mention Cat Stevens and Robert Plant-they are only 77!
Others are already gone. They died young of drugs and fill – Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and many, many more – and sometimes of high age such as Jeff Beck, Charlie Watts and Brian Wilson.
The generation that grew up to the tones of “San Francisco” and “All You Need is Love” was the most optimistic found. Jobs existed for everyone. In a country like Sweden, the welfare and safety nets were extensive and obvious, and better they would constantly become.
Consequently, the generation is now the most nostalgic of all time.
It went towards a brilliant future but is incessantly retrospective. Imagine all concerts with oldies but goodies, think all documentary films where every song and all other expressions for the 1960s are to be discussed, interviewed and mapped. Mick Jagger and Keith Richards perform at mastodont arenies with the same old melodies that all have heard a thousand times.
We are facing a mass death when those who created the spiritual superstructure of our time leave us. In the next few years, an era will finally disappear, and with the values that have characterized us for decades.
It is enough to see the wreck like drugs and are homeless in San Francisco to be cured from all nostalgia. I hope the jolly glorification of Summer of Love dies with those who created it.
Those who are young now Will characterize the next 50, 60 years. No common melody exists anymore, but the latest school choice tells about the youth’s values:
30 percent voted for the Moderates, 20 at SD and seven at KD. It will be 57 percent. S, MP and V together got 29 percent.
A right -wing ghost wanders around the world. He is dressed as a waiter and has the hair water combed in the middle legs, pasted on the skulting so that it resembles a helmet. Bugning he extends a silver tray with the bill.
Time to pay, my Lord.
The orchestra plays but I can’t hear the melody.
