It just got me all misty eyed.

At a Christmas party last night I heard a recording of Neil Young's Sugar Mountain. I started to cry a little bit because I was suddenly awash in warm nostalgia. Early seventies. Living in East Greenwich, Rhode Island. I was a longhair. Smoking pot and hanging out at every hippie scene. We listened to "No soap radio" at WBRU out of Brown University on Providence's east side. Look, I'm a 64 year old grandfather. Is it normal for me to still hark back to those freewheeling days and get all teary-eyed? My wife, a former Joan Baez type hippie girl herself tells me that I'm being very silly. Can anybody relate? Anybody live in East G. during the early seventies?

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Based on 7 votes (6 yes)
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Comments ( 7 )
  • Jweezee

    Why in the fuck won't this god damn site let me reply!!!!!!

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  • Ilovewinter12

    Sure, why not. I get misty eyed when I hear Country Roads by John Denver, despite the fact that I wasn't even alive during that period of time. The song still fills me with a sense of nostalgia.

    I would say that it's normal.

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  • pastor_of_muppets

    Joan Baez is awesome. I'm not even supposed to know who she is. "Diamonds and Rust" was actually remade by Judas Priest into an acoustic version. You should go youtube it, it is epic.
    Anyway, I didn't read your question - I just saw "Joan Baez" and then a bird distracted me

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  • thegypsysailor

    By then I was retired from rock and roll and a couple of years into my circumnavigation under sail on my first big boat, but I do have sentimental moments for my days as a flower child in the Haight/Ashbury. Music from those days can definitely send me into a sentimental spin.

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  • howaminotmyself

    Good luck finding someone here who was born in the 70's, let alone remember them.

    And I don't think your being silly, sometimes memories come flooding back and you can help but feel all nostalgic.

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  • Jweezee

    Hell no I can't relate. I was a deep in the jungles of Vietnam with bamboo shoots under my fingernails and concertina wire wrapped around my nutsack. I strangled a gook with a canteen strap and bit off another's nose for freedom from the Hanoi Hilton. I still had the dried brains of my platoon leader dotting my ragged fatigues. I lost three toes to jungle rot before a chinook from Da Nang spotted me in a rice paddy. Meanwhile you were smoking dope stateside, listening to Neil young, and calling me a baby killer. Nah man... I can't relate

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    • thegypsysailor

      You are 30 now and were how old in the 70's? I guess you really died at the HH and this is your reincarnated self talkin, huh? Or really, really bad at math.

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