SAME, BUT DIFFERENT THAN COMMUNE

In the Sixties, I lived on a commune for a period of time. Students from UCSC in Santa Cruz were in between their B.A. and Masters degrees, life, teaching, or going to Russia. All men had missed the draft because they were in school and were from upper middle class families. They were spoiled in other words. The women there were few. Steve's wife and two children. And a couple of girlfriends, who were never there, and myself. Living off the grid with these guys showed that not all people are leaders, or know how to survive. They sat and whined, or sat and smoke grass, dropped acid and waited for something to happen.

There was an old barn on the property, which we dismantled to build our little shelters. The sides were about a foot high and we built four supports and a roof. The earthen floor we lined in plastic and through our sleeping bags down on it. We were not building for permanance, obviously. At the time, I was hitch-hiking back and forth between Oakland (California College of Arts & Crafts student) and the commune in Riddle, Oregon.

After a time, the brown rice and tamari sauce was getting old. Let's start a vegetable garden. Yeah. Sure. Do it. So I did. Later, I solved the infrequency of protein in our diets. (Well, not quite. We were in the habit of going out on the freeway and ordering burgers at A & W). One morning, I thought my alarm was going off (yeah, the only one who figured out a wind-up alarm clock would work out here. What a hippie I turned out to be!), and woke up looking for the switch when I saw my cat, Lucy, poised to attack a rattlesnake shaking its rattles and coiled. That was the alarm! I hopped up and grabbed a shovel without thinking and killed that snake before coming to my senses. Saved the cat, and since it was August (and dog days - rattlesnakes busy shedding their skins), we had plenty of snake meat and more headbands then we would ever need.

Anyway, maybe I am perfect for this experiment...

Lia