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National Musigraphic Special: Understanding the Hippie
by Dustin Grovemiller, Dept. of Patron Services
Hey, you! Yeah, the white guy with the braided hair –
I mean you. What the hell are you doing? Don’t just
stand there and drift in the middle of traffic, there are
people trying to get through here! Who the hell am I? Oh…
you must not have noticed my venue credentials. Yes, the
laminated thing hanging around my neck. Here’s what
it says:
“Get the fuck out of my way.”
 Oh
yes, my greasy hippie amigo… you should respect of
this piece of laminated paper! Not only does it mean that
I can go anywhere around here, but it also means that I
can get some perks from wearing it. These might range from
simple pleasantries like having my ass grabbed by that gal
I shared an elevator trip with during last night’s
Billy Idol concert, to being able to have someone thrown
out of the building. In this particular instance, the almighty
credentials dictate that you need to move so I can get the
hell through here.
Now, please don’t let me stop you from having a good
time. I can see that you’re very good at standing
there with a beer in your hand, staring into the smoke-filled
middle distance as you drift and waver back and forth in
the great cosmic pattern that can only be felt by one that
has smoked waaaay too much of a nickel bag. By the way,
how exactly did you get that into my venue to begin with?
Also, did you know you’re not wearing shoes?
Seriously, as little as I really care about your unwashed
self, didn’t you notice that the layers of spilled
drinks and God-only-knows-what-else on the floor are making
your feet stick to it? Really, I can feel it adhering to
the soles of my shoes and I’m wearing a sturdy pair
of sneakers, here. Ohhhhhh… that must be why you haven’t
moved yet! Stuck to the floor, right?
Oh, and this must be your significant other! How nice to
meet you. It’s nice to see that you share common interests,
like a lack of personal hygiene. And what a lovely child
you have there – about eights months? Yes, yes, that’s
an absolutely perfect age to start introducing them to music.
It will encourage the early development of artistic skills
and brain patterns, which is perfect; the kid’s going
to need those at an early age because the fact that you’ve
brought him or her to a smoke-filled building for hours
on end is going to do wonders for the kid’s health.
I also feel the need to commend you on the sound judgment
that your baby can let you know if the 110 decibels of music
being pounded into his or her young ears is too loud. Seems
to be doing fine though! I guess that leaves me with nothing
to say but what a lovely papoose you’ve got to carry
your child around in. Ah yes, I can see how that helps to
free up your arms for aimless waving so you can smack those
that wander into your unfocused sphere.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to
duck past you so I can now push your oblivious boyfriend
out of my way, since he’s obviously “in the
zone.” Have a lovely evening, and don’t forget
to take your odor with you when you leave. Honestly, do
you realize that I’d prefer to work Goth shows? At
least they wash themselves when they take off their make-up.
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