Peaceniks. Stoners. Tree huggers. Freaks. For many, the hippies of the 1960s and early 1970s were immoral, drug-crazed kids too spoiled to work and too selfish to embrace the American way of life. But who were these longhaired dissenters bent on peace, love and equality? What did they believe? What did they want? Are their values still relevant today? Bringing together the personal accounts and perspectives of 54 "old hippies," this book illustrates how their lives and outlooks have changed over the past five decades. Their collective narrative invites readers to reach their own conclusions about the often misunderstood movement of ordinary young people who faced an era of escalating war, civil turmoil and political assassinations with faith in humanity and a belief in the power of ideas.

Peaceniks. Stoners. Tree huggers. Freaks. For many, the hippies of the 1960s and early 1970s were immoral, drug-crazed kids too spoiled to work and too selfish to embrace the American way of life. But who were these longhaired dissenters bent on peace, love and equality? What did they believe? What did they want? Are their values still relevant today? Bringing together the personal accounts and perspectives of 54 "old hippies," this book illustrates how their lives and outlooks have changed over the past five decades. Their collective narrative invites readers to reach their own conclusions about the often misunderstood movement of ordinary young people who faced an era of escalating war, civil turmoil and political assassinations with faith in humanity and a belief in the power of ideas.

This short overview of the United States hippie social movement examines hippie beliefs and practices.

Flowers through Concrete: Explorations in Soviet Hippieland takes the reader on a journey into the lives and thoughts of Soviet hippies. In the face of disapproval and repression, they created a version of Western counterculture, skillfully adapting to, manipulating, and shaping their late socialist environment. Flowers through Concrete takes its readers into the underground hippieland and beyond, situating the world of hippies firmly in late Soviet reality and offering both an unusual history of the last Soviet decades as well as a case study of transnational youth culture and East-West globalization. Flowers through Concrete is based on over a hundred interviews, declassified documents, and private archives hidden for many decades. It tells the almost forgotten story of how hippie communities sprang up across the Soviet Union in the late-60s, often under the tutelage of the rebellious offspring of privileged households at the heart of the Soviet establishment. It charts how these communities linked up to create an impressive network with elaborate customs and rituals, ensuring its survival for more than two decades. Flowers through Concrete recounts not only a compelling story of survival against the odds - hippies who were harassed by police, shorn of their hair by civilian guards, and confined in psychiatric hospitals by doctors who believed non-conformism was a symptom of schizophrenia - but also advances a surprising argument. It suggests that the land of Soviet hippies and the world of late socialism were not entirely incompatible, but in fact meshed surprisingly well. Ultimately, it was not the KGB but the arrival of capitalism in the 1990s that ended the Soviet hippie sistema.

In the popular imagination, opposition to the Vietnam War was driven largely by college students and elite intellectuals, while supposedly reactionary blue-collar workers largely supported the war effort. In Hardhats, Hippies, and Hawks, Penny Lewis challenges this collective memory of class polarization. Through close readings of archival documents, popular culture, and media accounts at the time, she offers a more accurate "counter-memory" of a diverse, cross-class opposition to the war in Southeast Asia that included the labor movement, working-class students, soldiers and veterans, and Black Power, civil rights, and Chicano activists.Lewis investigates why the image of antiwar class division gained such traction at the time and has maintained such a hold on popular memory since. Identifying the primarily middle-class culture of the early antiwar movement, she traces how the class interests of its first organizers were reflected in its subsequent forms. The founding narratives of class-based political behavior, Lewis shows, were amplified in the late 1960s and early 1970s because the working class, in particular, lacked a voice in the public sphere, a problem that only increased in the subsequent period, even as working-class opposition to the war grew. By exposing as false the popular image of conservative workers and liberal elites separated by an unbridgeable gulf, Lewis suggests that shared political attitudes and actions are, in fact, possible between these two groups.

“Skip’s account of the founding of JanSport wreaks of honesty, humor, and enough anecdotes to stir a memory in almost anyone who has spent time outside.” —Larry Burke, Editor-in-Chief, Outside Magazine From small-town Kansas boy to adventure-junkie extraordinaire to respected mountaineer, this funky and funny read traces Skip Yowell’s (cofounder of JanSport) unorthodox journey to the top of the outdoor industry. Full of offbeat details and photos from Skip’s adventures around the world, he lets it all hang out as he offers you a rare behind-the-scenes look at the three hippies who built a successful company during the Summer of Love . . . how their good vibrations continue to change an entire industry . . . and why breaking the rules and taking good care of their customers keeps JanSport at the top of their game. No question, Skip’s story will take you higher. He’ll show you the ropes for whatever mountain you face. Whether he’s drinking “Commie beer” in Ohio or slurping yak butter tea in China, this book will get under your skin and into your heart. And who knows, his story might just kick-start your dreams. So go ahead. Get the book (and another for your friend). Find a chair or couch or park or plane. Get comfortable. Be inspired. Then go climb your own mountain. “With contagious enthusiasm, droll photographs and ‘60s lingo, Yowell tells the breezy story of JanSport, maker of Trail Dome tents and ubiquitous day packs.” —Publishers Weekly