Stories
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It was back in the hippy days when we had a gang of a dozen to 15 of more or less regulars, and did outings together. Probably a summer Sunday we gathered in Golden Gate Park. It was a barbecue pit and picnic table, across the meadow, and a distance from John F. Kennedy drive. Could do a little cooking and play sports like Frisbee, foot or baseball. Maybe shoot the breeze, do
a little drinking or even some toking. This spot was at the east end, of what was the west end of Speedway Meadows, but separated from by a slight sloping hill
and so-so tall shrubbery, which hid the famous eastern part that was haven for the famous hippy concerts, such as the Jefferson Airplane or Janis Joplin.
Went to a few of those concerts but not many. Don't know, but wasn't that impressed, or maybe just not my cup of tea. Always a few — both sexes, dancing naked in front of the stage and always well endowed. All the people, the costumes, the egos and characters, was an event of the century, but who was to know, or at least not me?
I remember one particular concert on a Sunday though. The flat of Speedway Meadow was not wide where bands played, usually on the deck of a flat-bed semi-trailer truck, they would pull in there. The meadow was maybe 50 yards across at this point, with a minor hill on the south side covered in scrubby shrubs giving way to eucalyptus and pine. The meadow tended to widen out a bit further away toward the east.
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