I love this song. I remember asking my dad about it whenever it came on the radio--I'd always forget who performed it--and he'd always point out that it had a link to an actual event that took place in San Francisco. It wasn't until today in class, when we were watching a video detailing the Summer of Love in 1967 that it finally connected in my brain the meaning of what he was saying. Wow.
I've been having moments like this off and on for the last three weeks: thinking about the stories my parents have told me, constructing a mental timeline, finally connecting event to event, letting the realities of things that happened sink in and envelop my mind. Not only am I slowly gaining a better understanding of where we are as a society today, but also how I relate to my parents to my grandparents...and suddenly I feel more passionate. I honestly don't know how to explain how or why, but I feel it. There is so much going through my mind right now, I'm overwhelmed. I know now how much I care about what happened during the sixties--because it affected so much. I might touch on this more a little later, but right now I find myself lost in what had happened in my parents' generation, and really, being two days away from being done with the class, I really need to focus on all the essays I have to compose in the next week.
In the meantime, I'm going to pop in all the 60s music I know of so I can concentrate. And this one will be played a lot.
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