Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Hey look, it's a Hippie

I have never understood the modern day "Hippie." At least in the manifestation that I have seen. And I have seen plenty.

Recently I came face-to-face with a young lady who calls herself a hippie. A true product of her age, she completes the persona with piercings, dreadlocks and arm pit hair.

Ok, I can understand the piercings - she is young after all - and I get the hair, to some extent, but the arm pit hair?! I draw my line in the sand there. After all, what is so altruistic about hair there?

Sure, Hippies are embracing a more naturalistic lifestyle, but I don't often see too many female Hippies with a mustache sprouting from betwixt their arm! Call me old fashion, call me pathetic, call me what you will. (Yes, I stole that from Green Day) I do not dig arm pit hair on women. Hell, I am not a fan of seeing it on men. As a result, I abhor tank tops.

Add to the mix an overwhelming body odor and holy hell!

I get what the Hippie lifestyle was. I do. It was an adaptation to a simpler, natural way of life. Some factions promoted sustainable energy, growing your own food, composting and more. Others believed in mind altering drugs to find a sense of enlightenment. And others still promoted the values of a Ghandi-like way of life. Cool, I get it.

What I don't understand is the desire to be filthy. I don't get the need to smell so foul that not even the dog wants to play with you. When you walk in the garden and your body odor kills the tomatoes. There is a problem. When a skunk runs from you, take a shower!

Personal hygiene is something I happen to be big on. Especially since I am a big guy. I understand that sometimes I take on a not so savory aroma and am in need of a good and proper hosing. No worries! I grab the soap and scrub brushes, maybe some steel wool, and set about peeling off a couple of layers of skin in an effort not to stink.

But yet, folks that I have met nowadays that call themselves a "hippie" aren't even sure where to find the soap in a grocery store. I once heard a song by the band GWAR that asks, "How do you hide money from a hippie? Put it under the soap!" Maybe there is truth to this.

A dear friend of mine is one I like to call a Hippie. Actually her husband and I both call her Hippie. And she embraces it. She is into gardening, composting and finding ways of reusing things. Yet she understands the value of staying clean. So, apparently not all Hippies smell. Or so I hope.

So, to you Hippies out there, understand that if you come to my house, I will offer you food, drink, a peace branch and a big ole bar of soap. I will even throw in a hot shower. And, if you're a woman, while your at it - perhaps I am shallow - please shave the pits. Or, at least cover it up.