Milton is not inaccurate (Possum Post)

#28
#28
I had a Brian Jones haircut and wore a Nehru jacket in 1968. By 1970, my hair was below my shoulders. I wore bell bottom jeans with bell sleeved shirts and a peace symbol around my neck. I listened to every kind of music, attended anti war rallies, befriended Vietnam vets that my father brought into our home, could quote Barry Goldwater, and sang Merle Haggard songs on key. Hippies and rednecks thought I was alright. By 1972, I’d cut my hair to stay in high school, played bass drum in the marching band, and saxophone in jazz/folk/art rock fusion garage bands.
Girls of every stripe thought I was cute, and I never lacked for a date. I had part time jobs from 14 through college and was appreciated by every employer. An older lover labeled me an enigma when I was seventeen. I guess it fit.
 
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