July 8th: A Day of Music

            Today is music day. I’ve got it all figured out… head to Hippie Hill in Golden Gate Park for a little drum circle jam, then bop over to Stern Grove for a free concert by the SF Symphony, all in a Sunday’s work.

            So throw on my hippie outfit: a brightly colored wrap skirt from Zanzibar, my knock-off Tom’s, and my thirty-five pound djembe (West African drum). Grab a bus and find my way to Hippie Hill.  Where I find no one. Well, expect those two guys down there with a guitar case and a dog. Hmmmm.

Me: ‘Um, hello. I saw your guitar and was wondering if you knew anything about the drum circle that’s happens here on the weekends? Sometimes it’s at the Flower Conservatory? Ok, let’s check it out.’

Hippie 1: “Hey, do you have marijuana on your drum bag? Yes, I’m pretty sure you do – look at the pattern of the fabric right here. That looks like weed to me. Do you smoke? What? Why not? I think you just need to get the right kind, see there is X type of weed that makes you super hungry that’s used for cancer patients, and there is R type of weed that gets you super high…”

Hippie 2: “…and I’ve got some purple weed here.”

Me: Um, ok. I had no idea the incredible variety. No thanks. Since there doesn’t seem to be a drum circle going on here today, I’m going to head over to another park pretty soon to watch the SF Symphony playing for free!

Hippie 1: “What’s the symphony?”

Hippie 2: “You know, the SF Symphony – great classical music.”

Hippie 1: “Oh. Ok, let’s go.”

            So off we head to the symphony. Of course mobilizing two hippies and a dog is not an easy task. A lighter must be found to get a good morning hit. And then some weed negotiations must be made since there isn’t enough purple stuff. But finally we get to the bus stop where I am educated on the art of taking the bus for free (ie jumping on the back and not paying). I guess I won’t mention that I have a monthly bus pass?

Well, I seem to have joined the ranks of SF hippies for a few hours, with my weed-covered djembe case, funky skirt, and new friends, riding on the back of the bus. And I just take it all in. A couple more hippies jump on board, there eyelids fluttering – clearly they found a lighter this morning – and start taking with us about which parks are safe to sleep in and which ones you’ll get your shoes stolen off your feet in the middle of the night by the homeless vets… talking about how the vets have a hay day on the first of the month but are trying to get a dollar off a hippie by the 5^th… talking about how to get signed up for disability.

And I’m just quietly taking it all in. Starting to wonder about my own views on our society’s safety net and how it’s being used. Oh god, I’m feeling this conservative twinge coming on… thinking “why should I work so that you can get paid to get drunk and get high, sleeping in the park and bumming free rides on buses?”…. thinking “there is no higher moral purpose to your choice to be a hippie; you aren’t defying the man, you are just abusing the system”. Oh, dear, what is happening to my liberal, socialist views?

I pull out my iPhone, losing all my hippie credibility, and check our bus route, making sure we get off at the right place and that we won’t be too late for the concert, given our detours this morning. I send and answer a few text messages, trying to figure out how I’m going to find my roommates at this big concert. Stressin’.

We get off the bus, find the main concert entrance closed, and meander around the park until I hear some music. Now it’s my turn to stop following the crowd of people trying to find another entrance… I grab my new friends and head off down a trail, following the music… and find the symphony, a melody floating up the hill. Check my phone. Take in the music. Look for a spot to sit on the hill.

And by some dumb luck, run into one of my roommates. And now all my credibility as a hippie is blown. My friend has on a smart little outfit with a fashionable purse, and pulls out a big sandwich for us to share. I feel my hippie friends’ glazed over eyes burning into me. Or maybe those are my own. Seeing that I’m not really a hippie after all. Unlike my two hippie friends, without cell phones or schedules, who just enjoyed where they were, when they were, and who they were with…. I worried about getting to the concert on time, fiddled with my cell phone to triple check the bus stop, and texted incessantly to try to meet up with my roommates. I was beholden to something other than freely enjoying the day. So those eyes burn into me and see that I’m not a hippie after all. I just dressed up and grabbed my drum today. Tomorrow I will go to work.

But for now, I will enjoy the SF Symphony, sitting on (read: slowly sliding down) a hill, peaking through the trees, and enjoying all my different friends.