"Turn off the lights!" My
dad would remind us. For the 1000th time. Yes, we took it for granted. But that was our way of life. Saving energy, saving electricity, saving the world — one light at a time.
Tofu or fish every night for dinner with a huge, huge bowl of salad and brown rice. Same dinner, every night.
Drive? Why not walk, or bike? It wasn't even a question. If we could walk there, we would. If it was only an hour bike ride away, we were biking it. The longer one could go without being in a car, the better. The more we saved, preserved, reserved, the better we were doing our jobs as daughters of Mother Earth.
As an actual hippy child, not just one of the 60s, I got to attend social action camps, political rallies, political conventions and speeches, and best of all – political concerts.
A hippy child did not have a television. If they did, it was placed sneakily in front of the treadmill for exercise or in the basement for movies, only.
If I ever ate meat it was not in the sight of my father. I didn't even learn how to cook it until I was 25.