By those who lived through its interval, the 1960’s was a time both loved and loathed with equal measure. For every handful of good moments there was another handful of the bad ones. One thing is for certain,though: it was a damn hard era to forget. Oh sure, those of us who had reason to (not a small number) tried their best, but invariably met with little success. And why was that?
You see, the Summer of Love was more than just a tiny tick in the timeline of existence, it was a feeling, a vibe (if you can dig it) that became difficult to explain to later generations because you had to be there to know. It wasn’t something that was necessarily grim or pleasant, or both, it was just there. Pervading society and culture as well as every individual. Something that, unlike Haley’s comet or a blue moon, would never return this world again. No matter how long you wait, how hard you yearn for ‘back then’.
Life has a way of telling you to move the hell on, my dears. So you do … sort of.