I R Not a Hippy. I R a Geek. Therz a Difference.

Sunday my parents came over for dinner (and so we could rescue some files from an old .zip disk for them). We'd spent the weekend working pretty hard -- got the pad dug for the shed, etc., as per previous post -- so it was a low-key evening.

As she was going out the door, Mom told me that someone at Dad's birthday dinner, back in mid-April, thought that K. and I seemed like hippies, but that she told them no, we're reenactors. (Which is, in and of itself, very funny -- but that's a subject for another post.)

Um. WTF? Hippies? I think I gave some bemused answer to Mom, but have been reflecting about that comment since then. We got the same thing a few years ago from our very, very clean-cut Southern Baptist neighbor across the street (whose son, I'm happy to note, is now sporting two diamond earrings, one in each ear). Reactions are a) I can't be a hippie, I work way too hard; and b) what a presumptuous asshole. (And, btw, I was dressed very conservatively for Dad's birthday party -- makeup, dress, heels, panty hose -- I even shaved my legs!)

Yes, I know the hippie movement was a very diverse one (I was born in the late 60s, so only know this second-hand), but that's not what this guy meant, I'm sure. Hippiedom has become a shorthand (deservedly, in many cases) for muddle-headed semi-mystical self-serving navel gazing. The dirty hippie trope has also been used by the Right to smear legitimate concerns about global warming.

When I ran the comment by my knitters' group last night, the reaction was, "Huh? You?!?"

I suspect that, given the very conservative nature of my parents' current church, this guy sees anyone the least bit to the left of himself as a hippie. So, ultimately, his comment says way more about him than it does about me.