By Jim Parsons
Hippies, hippies, hippies, have you ever seen a Japanese hippy? How about a Spanish hippie, or a young old beer hosen German hippie? I hate them. When I say “hippie,” I don’t mean the clean, long-haired, youngster in his turtle neck shirt, Nehru jacket, and love beads. I mean the dirty, garbage-eating young people who have become parasites of society.
The hippies I am after are like the ones I saw in Denver, Colorado, dancing bare foot in the park, sucking nickles out of parking meters, and worst of all carrying babies who will never know their fathers. Not only will these children never know a decent way of life, but they may suffer mentally and physically from their parents’ use of drugs and a literally filthy environment.
The hippies I am after are like the ones who gang up on our servicemen in San Francisco, and brutally beat and rob them. These so-called “peaceniks” claim this is their way of protesting the war in Viet Nam. I say it’s unjustice! These soldiers have fought and often have been wounded protecting the freedom of the hippie to be a hippie.
Yes, I have seen hippies—Spanish, German, Japanese, and American, but I didn’t see any hippies behind the Iron Curtain, two months ago.
I dare one hippie to raise his protest placard or stage a “sit-in” in East Berlin. I doubt that he would sit very long in front of the black-booted Russian Officer and his burp-gun toting cronies that I encountered at Check Point Charlie last August.
I just wonder what would happen? I’m sure we would suddenly recruit some very happy, satisfied, believers in the American ideals—believers who would beg to be allowed back into the society they protested.