Letters from the road: Hippies versus loggers

Hello Aimee!

Here I am at a coffee shop in the tiny town of Fort Bragg, California, in Mendocino County, surrounded by a healthy mix of aging and well-to-do hippies, their poor and young kin, and couples wearing tight pants and cowboy boots, driving around in jacked-up pickup trucks. Throw in a few middle-aged tourists in cargo shorts and that’s pretty much the local scene as I see it.

Do I sound cynical? Maybe I am a little. It’s easier to draw critical pictures of people than it is to solve all the world’s problems. I mean, I’d probably be laughed out of town if I showed up at a Fort Bragg city council meeting and proposed clear-cutting half our remaining old-growth forests and legalizing half of the marijuana.

The thing is, all of the people I’m making fun of here are really nice in their own way. No, wait — not in their own way, that’s bullshit. They’re just really nice, period. As long as you don’t bring up politics. So I guess my solution to all the world’s problems is for scientists to invent an ever-expanding planet with infinite resources so no one ever has to share and nothing is depleted … and also they would invent some hotshot new pharmaceutical to obviate the inevitable social problems that arise as a result of man’s hubris.

Collage from reverse side of page. Click to embiggen.

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