Back When the World Was Psychedelic

My grandmother used to bake pies in the kitchen where I lived as a boy. She would spend all day mixing and kneading, singing her old lady songs to herself. I would get to lick the bowl. This was my prize. Back when the world was psychedelic and hippies wandered the streets. My sister and I would play outside almost every sunny day. Magic kingdoms made of mud and bricks. Toy soldier citizens of mock empires. Barbie doll victims of terrible wars. Bubblegum music from the top forty traced the pattern of our lives. Our country had a new flag and boys in school still had short hair. Little girls wore skirts and dresses and pony tails were still the normal fashion. Black and white television set turned to the latest American sitcoms. We would laugh at Granny and marvel at Endora. Mr. Sullivan would present the latest rage, the latest quartet or singer from England. Back when the world was psychedelic and hippies wandered the streets. We wore peace buttons on our coats, and drew "smiley's" on our books. We talked about what we were going to do to make a difference in the world. We admired the Fab Four and worshipped at the altar of glorious possibilities. We knew it was going to be beautiful, because that is what we were being told. Every morning at school we would sing "God Save the Queen" and "O Canada", say The Lord's Prayer and hear the announcements. Teachers talked about the future as if it was a land of possibilities. We did not know the black and white visions would be transformed into colour horrors. We had no idea that the dreams of peace and love were going to be forgotten. Who could predict the grey soul of adulthood? Where have all the beautiful people gone? My grandmother used to bake pies in the kitchen where I lived as a boy. Back when the world was psychedelic and hippies wandered the streets.