Sunday, November 21, 2010

Excuse me, But my parents are hippies.

 ( may or may not contain " back in my day" references)


As a brainchild of the early eighties, growing up was tough enough. I had to endure school photograph after school photograph of bad hair styles, if it was in some way endorsed by the Rod Stewart's Academy Da Hair, then it probably graced my yearbook.

 Some great examples can still be seen today, something as simple as a drive by Westfield Mt Druitt can provide some mind blowing trips down hair cut memory lane. ( remember the all shaved except a fringe.......he he priceless)

So I grew up in the Southern Highlands of N.S.W Near Bowral, in a fairly small town, attended a fairly small school. Some most  school craze took their sweet A time to reach us. but we still thought we were pretty cool, even if we did live on the very fringe of every fad.

As a member of the cabbagepatch generation, I tried my best to follow along and I raised my right hand and named him Kent Borris with the best of them. This is my solemn oath.
My attempts to not slap you, slap a slapband were however, continuously thwarted by my "plant a tree" parents, (Generation 60's member numbers 4578 and 4579.)

Living in Sydney's outer - out skirts wasn't always easy if you were a little different your house smells like Nimbin.

Sleep overs In my house, were in my back yard cubby house, Note- it was a very large cubby house, weatherproof and was powered and not called a cubby  in our house but The kids studio, get outside, be creative man.

School yard chums would arrive at my door step, Shera sleeping bag in tow, greeted by my smiling mother swishing around some often fowl smelling patchouli or some shit flavoured incense in her hemp pants, asking if they would care for a fallafel, "It's yummy, and good for you, it's a chick pea patty" like that made it sound so much more appetising.
There was no  pizza night at my house unless you consider gluten free Himalayan wheat with burghul base topped with tofu, basil, goats cheese and pine nuts a pizza. Sadly most of my friends did not.

They would clamber their way down the hall of our little back 2 front house. and into a room I shared with my sister and to my sisters disgust, my cat Snappy Tom.
Probably should have thought of a more original name considering the amount of "feel the creative flow" that existed in my family.

My parents let them run free policy often resulted in scrapes, bumps and bruises of some kind, and any ailment or boo boo sent my parents rushing out the the veggie patch with the same enthusiasm other mum's gave to the annual Myer clearance.
It would be there they would pick some dock and aniseed root,  knock up some fowl smelling poultice that they would inevitably mix with arnica, and it would "fix that right up"

My friends mum's had their own way of fixing up scrapes, It was called a band aid.

I was the only Kid in 1R who gave a recount of their visit to the iridologist with a map of their chakra points for show and tell............. Ohhh did the kids make fun of you sweety? feeling a little unstable? might have a tantrum, " oh, here have a drum, bang on it, you'll feel better.... Yeah,.......... that beat is gas!"
Got a tooth ache?..... make an appointment with the dentist but in the mean time chew on this clove, why bombard your little kidneys with paracetamol. ......Why?  Because cloves taste like shit.


Family outings and reciprocal sleep over trips were taken in the family's Kombi, .... and no I am not kidding. The mustard coloured love bus would faithfully, or in our case unfaithfully take us wherever we wanted to go, as long as it wasn't too far......., or up hill........, or somewhere you might have to park on an incline.... The last was eventually rectified by my clever dad who came up with the genius solution of  carrying around a several discarded house bricks and we would dutifully "chock that under one of the back tyres love, Ill get the front"

My friends Dad's had ways of rectifying their car problems too, They took it to a mechanic and got the hand brake fixed.
                                                         
Now I'm not really complaining, my parents were indeed ahead of their time, And Far Out Man did they know how to throw a party. Get togethers or "churn nights" as they were known to us, were often hosted in our back to front house.
Walls were lined with canvas, paint's, ink's and charcoal filled baskets dotted the floor and everyone was encouraged to "feel the vibe" and put your mark on one.
My dad's band banged out a Hendrix classic in one corner, spare instruments were passed around the children and the Jam would begin.
 My mum spent days in the kitchen knocking up some very edible organic tasty treat straight from the garden, dressed in something contagiously colourful with a henna based hair dye in her hair, and spent uncountable hours transforming our home into the ultimate stylish party pad.
Other kids mum's had pass the parcel and lolly bags....... LAAAME!

There is simply far to much for one blog, but I'm sure this one will give you a small insight into my childhood, and is the very reason I turned out the way I did..... spectacular of course! But you really do have to excuse me, my parents were hippies.

Emmaxx

11 comments:

Tina said...

I wish my parents were that cool ;)

Glowless said...

Love it, almost as much as I love Shera... but don't worry, I don't think I could ever love anything more than her.

Katie said...

I wish my mom would have been a little more hippie and a little less "guilty catholic".
Much more fun to be had, I imagine. :)

MotorbikesLady said...

awww if only my parents were a lot more laid back (especially mum)then maybe I would have a far better relationship with them now then I do.

(((( Hugs ))))

Anonymous said...

Holy Crap - Thats some quality writing there. Very professional stuff. Well done.

Keep it up.

Lori @ RRSAHM said...

Hahaha cannot stop laughing. I always thought you were totally cool!!

Did the kids tease you? Go bang this drum!! Priceless!!

ClaireyH said...

Do you know I didn't even try basil until I was in my twenties, we were lamb and three veg people, complete with myer catalogue. I wish I went to those parties, I would have been freaked out, in a marvelous way.

Had to tweet the post to share with the world.

MMBB said...

hahaha "Because cloves taste like shit"

That Granny said...

I think I know the guy second in line in the 'hippies eat babies' pic....


But what are the aged hippies doing now???

Mummy's Brain said...

Thanking you all kindly, Special Thanks for the tweets! I'll keep you posted on what the hippies are up to now..... I have years of childhood torment to blog about yet.... Ha!

Hear Mum Roar said...

They sound like a crack up!