Call it the Summer of … Huh?
Ask a 20-something about the Summer of Love and prepare for a blank gaze.
“Summer of Love? Is that a real thing?” 25-year-old Paul Jones said when asked about the 40-year-old pinnacle of the hippie movement.
“That was like in the ’60s or something,” surmised his wife, 25-year-old Lisa Tayman Jones. “That’s about as much as I know.”
I’ll be the first to admit that I was clueless about the Summer of Love when first presented with the topic. So I did what any 20-something in 2007 would do: I turned to Wikipedia.
The Summer of Love entry conjured up an image from my high school history book: Hippies sitting cross-legged and espousing sex, drugs and self-exploration.
Those counterculture themes still resonate today, but my generation is embracing them in its own way — with little regard for its hippie ancestors.
Forty years after the Summer of Love, the country is again at war. There are still calls for political change. Marijuana can be easier to find than toilet paper in a house of 20-somethings.
But the new form of protest is on blogs, not in the street. Sexual hookups are prevalent on campuses, but the risk of AIDS and other STDs stymies true “free love.” Young adults strive to forge relationships and form communities, but in a shallow, I-don’t-want-to-have-an-actual-conversat ion-with-you-but-let’s-still-be-friends cyber way.
What separates us from the Summer of Lovers is that “there are just too many distractions,” Lisa Tayman Jones said.
You don’t have to listen to a street preacher ramble on about a cultural utopia; you can just turn up your iPod. When an unkempt hipster tries to hand you a pamphlet about the war, you can talk more loudly on your cell phone to show that you’re just too busy to chat about making a difference or banding together for a cause.
If you do believe in a cause, you don’t have to go door to door with fliers or hold a sit-in — not when e-petitions and spam do the job.
You can whine about the war on your LiveJournal or, if you’re seeking a bigger audience, YouTube a hunger strike. Show your support for a presidential candidate not by canvassing the neighborhood but by making said candidate one of your top eight friends on MySpace.
Go ahead, blame Generation Y’s plasticity on social-networking sites. If hippies displayed their feelings with body paint and flowers in their hair, then my generation uses colorful backgrounds on MySpace.
We join Facebook groups to showcase our interests. Would the hippies of 1967 be intrigued by the mini-communities formed over a love for “Saved by the Bell” or a hatred of Tyra Banks?
Still, Baby Boomers might be comforted to learn there’s demand on Facebook to bring back the hippie era. But then there also are the Facebook users who have banded together to electronically yell at the “tree humpers” to get off the grass.
“Our generation is much more realistic, bordering sometimes on cynical,” said Michele Jones, 28. “We’re much more self-absorbed.”
Sexual experimentation and music, on the other hand, are topics every generation can relate to.
If the hippie lifestyle is what we Millennials seek, we don’t need to travel to San Francisco to embrace peace, love and freedom.
The ’60s come to us on our radios and iPods.
Growing up, I can recall hearing “If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair” as I sat in the back of my mom’s mini-van. The dial was always on the oldies station. I scowled as I listened, wishing that I could be more in tune with New Kids on the Block or whatever cassette tape my friends were jamming into a Walkman.
As I have grown older, I’ve learned to appreciate knowing Creedence Clearwater Revival better than Vanilla Ice. The Beatles may not be high on my playlist, but I listen to the band sometimes. And I can recognize the influence the Beatles have had on other groups I am more likely to listen to, such as U2.
Though I can hardly imagine The Killers or Justin Timberlake replayed 40 years from now on the oldies channels, perhaps the Summer of 2007 will yield something of lasting cultural significance. Or is that being too idealistic?
———-
Tracy Swartz, a 24-year-old who runs more hipster than hippie, is a RedEye reporter.
IN THE WEB EDITION Read more about the Summer of Love and listen to Scott McKenzie discuss how his song, “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” became its anthem at chicagotribune.com/summeroflove
