Scraping by on stale bread, old bananas, and LSD. Grokking the scene. "Look, here comes Philthy Phil! Let's score a lid of pot!" "Beat it, here comes the fuzz!" Actually, we'd have made a piss-poor hippie. If we don't shower every day, we get squirrelly. And acid wasn't our thing. We dropped a tab of acid once, and spent the next 6 hours down on our hands and knees, looking for it. We would have dug the long hair with freaky beard look. Sort of a Charles Manson/Jesus kinda arrangement, follicularly speaking. We would have walked around in a robe, shouting, "A vote for Nixon is a vote for fun!" And the music! We could have listened to the Dead noodle endlessly for free in Golden Gate Park, at a Human Be-In or what not. "Look, it's Allen Ginsberg, and he's not wearing any pants!"