Getting old sucks, but I don’t need to tell you that. You’ll find out on your own, if you’re lucky/unlucky (delete as appropriate). I find it really weird to be able to say shit like “50 years ago blah, blah, blah”, but that’s exactly what I’m about to do. How’s that for a warm up?
Fifty years ago this year, two films, and one album came out that remain on my list of all time favourites. All three are well worth remembering, and revisiting. And if you’ve never enjoyed them yourself, then let the 50th anniversary of all three be the nudge you need to check them out.
The first film is “Jaws”, and if you’ve never seen it, you absolutely should. It was the very first big summer blockbuster. I don’t mean it was the first big Hollywood movie, but it was the first hyped-up film released in the summer, that went on to set box office records. But it wasn’t just a commercial success, the film was also critically acclaimed.
“Jaws” was promoted heavily, and had a lot of pre-release buzz surrounding it, prior to it’s debut. The way the film was successfully marketed became the blueprint on how to advertise new films. The pre-release excitement had people queuing around the block just to get a ticket.
I was 12 years old in 1975, and I got caught up in the massive hype too. The film was based on a very successful novel of the same name, written by Peter Benchley. In anticipation of the film, I devoured the paperback, much like a great white shark might, in big giant bites. And I read it more than once.
The film is a fairly faithful adaptation of the book. They omitted a minor subplot involving Chief Brody’s wife having an affair with Matt Hooper. It was a smart decision, as it would have been a distraction, and it would have made the character bond between Brody and Hooper weaker.
I saw the film at the very first screening on opening day. The film was a blast, and a half! Dramatic, exciting, action-packed, and just a tiny bit gory. Who knew shark attacks could be so messy?
The shark in the film, named “Bruce” by the crew, was a practical effect. There was no CGI back in the olden days. Could they make the shark look better today? Of course they could. Should they remake the film? OMG no no NO! The film still stands up today, and is as watchable now, as it was when I saw it in 1975. It’s extremely entertaining.
The second film I’d like to highlight from 1975 is “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, which was also wildly popular, though the subject matter was far less commercially appealing.
Based upon the 1962 Ken Kesey novel, the film went on to sweep all five major academy awards; Best film, best screenplay (adapted), best director, best actor, and best actress. It was also a commercial success, and surprisingly funny, considering the seriousness of the subject matter.
Michael Douglas was one of the producers on the film. At one point, his father, Kirk Douglas, was attached to star in the it, but that was more than a decade before this version was produced.
The story centres around Randall Patrick McMurphy, a boisterous, somewhat morally challenged, wise-ass, petty criminal, who feigns mental illness, and his locked up in a psychiatric hospital. He does this to avoid a worse fate, hard labour in prison. McMurphy is played by the great Jack Nicholson. Nicholson’s performance really drives the film. It is easily one of his best.
Jack Nicholson is one of my all time favourite actors. And he’s my homeboy, as we’re both originally from the same bit of the Jersey shore, though I didn’t know it back then.
McMurphy’s nemesis in the film is Nurse Ratched, played by Louise Fletcher. She is in charge of the ward in the mental hospital he ends up in, and she sees wise-cracking McMurphy as a threat to her authority. Both Fletcher and Nicholson won well deserved Oscars for their performances in the film.
And if you’re really paying attention, you should spot a young Danny DeVito and Christopher Lloyd in the supporting cast. The film was rated “R” in America. As I was only 12 years old, it meant I wouldn’t be admitted unless an adult accompanied me. I was ultra-hyped for the film, having read countless articles, and reviews about it, as well as seeing clips on TV. I spent weeks begging my father to take me to see it.
My dad wasn’t really a cinema goer, and I can count the number of times he went to the cinema with me on one hand. But I was persistent, and extra helpful around the house. He finally relented, and off we went.
I am not going to spoil the plot, as the less you know going in, the more you will enjoy it. As I said, there are parts that are laugh out-loud funny, but there are other elements that are extremely sad. Some might even say shocking, certainly to an audience 50 years ago. I expect it would be the same for an audience today.
If you ever get the chance, watch it. You really will laugh, and you will cry, and you will thank me for turning you on to such an amazing film.
“Born to Run”, is the album that made Bruce Springsteen a household name when it was released in 1975. All I ask is that you listen to it once. I’ve listened to it countless times, but I can remember the first time I heard it, like it was yesterday.
It was a few years after it’s release that I went Springsteen mad, but it was hard to miss the publicity he received when “Born to Run” came out.
Sure, we have NJ in common, but I think it wouldn’t have mattered where I lived. I would have still been into his music, and would have still become a huge fan wherever I grew up. That said, it didn’t hurt that Bruce and I lived in the same area, it was actually very cool.
When the record was released, Bruce was on the front cover of both Newsweek, and Time Magazine at the same time. That was pretty much unheard of, back then. Talk about hype!
Jon Landau, who was a music critic back in the day, provided this often quoted line, after attending a Springsteen performance: “…I saw rock ‘n’ roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen”.
Landau was right. He also went on to work with Bruce for a while, as a producer and manager. And he helped Bruce get out of his terrible first record contract, that was signed in the dark, on the hood of a car.
There are only 8 songs on the album, and it’s a just under 40 minutes long, but those 40 minutes insured that Bruce became one of the biggest rock and roll stars in the world. And 50 years later, that is still true.
I would suggest you listen to “Born to Run” at least once in track listing order. Think of it as a journey, follow the stories, and see where they lead.
In the 1970s, albums were considered an art form of their own. There were even radio stations that followed a format called AOR, which stood for Album Oriented Rock. You’re actually meant to listen to them their entirety. “Shuffle” is something else that wasn’t a thing back in the olden days.
Don’t think of all this as a homework assignment. Take it for what it is, a small, curated list of my top three pieces of media from 1975 that have more than withstood the test of time. I know there are many other films, and albums I could have name checked, but these three are special to me. One day, they might be special to you too.
After a 30 year career as a journalist, working for some of the largest news organisations in the world, including Associated Press and Reuters, and 15 years as a duty news editor for BBC News, Doug – the northlondonhippy is now a full time hippy, and writer. And for the last few years, he’s been #EpilepsyHippy. His life was a whole lot more fun before gaining that new title. For real.
Doug is also the author of “Personal Use by the northlondonhippy.” “Personal Use” chronicles Doug’s years of experience with mind altering substances, while calling for urgent drug law reform. It’s a cracking read, you will laugh, you will cry, and you can bet your ass that you will wish you were a hippy too!
If you want even more, (and who wouldn’t?) you could always check out Hippy Highlights – which is the best of the best stuff on the site, and it’s all free to read. What are you waiting for?
2024 is a special year for me, as it is my 20th anniversary of being a fake online hippy. That’s no small achievement, considering the last thing the world probably needs is a fake online hippy. Yet here I am.
I didn’t plan on becoming a fake online hippy, it just sort of happened, organically. I first used the name “northlondonhippy” on some online forums, unsurprisingly about drugs, and drug use. It wasn’t just about weed, although a lot of it was, but it was mainly about magic mushrooms. They were sort of legally available to buy in London until 2005.
When blogging first started getting popular, I was between jobs, so I started my first website, a Blogspot blog. And back in 2004, it really was a blog.
I had no idea what I was doing, much like now, only my writing in the beginning was really just stream of consciousness drivel. I even called it drivel for the first few years. I literally wrote about what I had for lunch, or how many joints I smoked. It was dull, but I posted frequently. And people read it anyway. I had followers, and fans. It was weird.
Around the same time I started posting online, I got a job with BBC News. I should have abandoned drug blogging then,, but I didn’t. I just quietly, and secretly kept going.
In 2006, I relaunched myself online with my own website, and URL. I tried to get more serious about my writing, and in some ways I did. I wasn’t as consistent, or regular in my posting habits, but I tried to have more to say. That first version of this website, was hacked to oblivion, and I lost a lot of my original content.
Things turned weird at work, and I got fucked off. So I did what any sensible human being would do, I secretly wrote a book while sitting in the BBC Newsroom. That book is called “Personal Use”, and I published it in October 2016. I wrote and published an actual book, I wasn’t just a blogger any more.
I was clueless how to promote the book, so for the first few months, I didn’t. I just gave copies of the eBook away to people on Twitter for free. And then I sent out three PR letters, and I included a signed, printed copy of the book, some chocolate, and a limited edition “Personal Use” mug. If you’ve got a mug, you’re lucky. There aren’t that many of them in the world.
I think it was the mug that did it, because one letter got a positive response. I was invited to the LBC studios, where I was interviewed by James O’Brien in January 2017, on his birthday. I hear that since Mr. O’Brien had me on his show as a guest, he’s become quite popular. Wish my radio debut had the same effect on me! To be fair, the interview did briefly increase my book sales exponentially, but it was fleeting.
I should have capitalised on this more, I should have used the momentum I had to build more of a profile. I knew I was risking my job, but I didn’t care. In fact, a part of me hoped I would be found out, as the publicity would have been useful. And then everything changed.
Mrs. Hippy had been unwell, and I didn’t really grasp how serious things were. When I did, I recommitted myself to my job, and backed off from trying to promote the book. Not long after that, my own health problems began. They’re the ones that led me to give up my job, and eventually dub myself “Epilepsy Hippy”.
When I gave up my job in Spring 2020, I outed myself as I became a full time hippy. I still didn’t realise how sick I was, and I hadn’t been diagnosed with epilepsy yet. I received a partial diagnosis around 18 months, and 10 tonic-clonic seizures later, but I didn’t receive a full diagnosis until just last month. It’s been a long, hard, confusing, frustrating, and nearly deadly 5 years, but I’m still here.
I think epilepsy is going to kill me. It’s come close a couple of times. I’m not coping with it well, and I’m struggling to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Not knowing if you’re going to drop dead tomorrow, tends to make long term planning a bit trickier.
My anniversary year will be as much about looking back, as it is looking forward. I’m going to get nostalgic, but I’m also going to try to push myself to do more, to be more. There’s got to be a reason why, after 20 years, I’m still a fake online hippy. Together, maybe we can figure it out.
So here’s to the last 20 years of my life pretending to be a hippy online for fun, and (no) profit. I promised myself when I gave up my job that I was going to concentrate on doing good, and having fun, and thanks to my poor health, I have failed at both. I’m going to pretend that my anniversary year is going to turn all that around. And my main aim for 2024 is a simple one, to not die, and to see in 2025. Anything I do beyond that, is a bonus.
So stay tuned, as I will be sporadically posting stuff as we approach the 18th of March, which is the actual anniversary of my first ever blog post. Who knows, perhaps after 20 years of being a fake, online hippy, I will finally become an unlikely, overnight success. And it would probably totally do my head in.
After a 30 year career as a journalist, working for some of the largest news organisations in the world, including Associated Press and Reuters, and 15 years as a duty news editor for BBC News, Doug – the northlondonhippy is now a full time hippy, and writer. And for the last few years, he’s been #EpilepsyHippy. His life was a whole lot more fun before gaining that new title. For real.
Doug is also the author of “Personal Use by the northlondonhippy.” “Personal Use” chronicles Doug’s years of experience with mind altering substances, while calling for urgent drug law reform. It’s a cracking read, you will laugh, you will cry, and you can bet your ass that you will wish you were a hippy too!
You can also find Doug – the northlondonhippy on Twitter: @nthlondonhippy but only if you look really hard.
And if you want even more, (and who wouldn’t?) you could always check out Hippy Highlights – which is the best of the best stuff on the site, and it’s all free to read. What are you waiting for?
The hippy looks back at the roots of his lifetime love of modern music, through the songs he grew up with, and technology of the day that played it for him.
His journey began when he was 2 years old, and it started with the Beatles, and a couple of years later, Motown and more.
As you’ll see, these memories turned out to be a lot more bittersweet than expected.
Age 2
Growing up, my mother told me this story many times, of not long after I first began talking, I also started singing. And the very first song I ever sang was “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” by the Beatles.
The single was released around 10 months after I was born, and it was still a hot hit on the radio when I was 2 years old. My mother told me we used to hear it a lot in the car.
One day without prompting, I sang along with the chorus, which delighted my parents. Even at the age of 2, I had excellent taste in popular music. I like to think at the tender age of 60, that I still do.
The Beatles – I Wanna Hold Your Hand
Age 4
My family moved from north Jersey to down the shore in Asbury Park when I was 1 year old. We lived there for three years, until I was about four. We lived in a two family house.
Source: Google Maps
My earliest memories of my life are based in that very house, and around Asbury Park. I can still picture the kitchen, the living room, my bedroom, and the steep main staircase that led up to the entrance of our place.
The upstairs bit was my ours, and the downstairs part of the house was rented to another family. They were a married couple, a little older than my parents, and they had a couple of grown children; a son and a daughter.
Their names were Carmen, and Emily, and their daughter’s name was Sara. I think their son’s name was Anthony, but I’m not sure. I didn’t really know him.
Carmen owned the Mobile petrol station in Asbury. I remember going there with my dad as a child, and petting the gas station guard dog, a friendly, happy German Shepherd, who wasn’t quite as friendly on his own, when he protected the station at night.
Carmen and Emily already lived in the house when my parents purchased it, and they would all go on to become very good friends. They remained close for decades, until Carmen and Emily passed away many years later. They were nice people.
When I was around 4, my mother called me into the living room, and Emily and her daughter Sara were already there. Sara would have been in her early 20s at the time.
They told me Sara was losing her hearing, and she wanted to give me her collection of 45rpm pop music records, because she couldn’t listen to them any more. It was a tall stack of singles, in some sort of plastic carrying case.
My mother said, “What do you say when someone gives you a gift, Doug?”
“Thank you, Sara!”, I replied enthusiastically. It was like an unexpected Christmas morning!
I didn’t really understand the tragic context of this gift, I was only 4 years old, but I was certainly excited. I couldn’t wait to go into my bedroom, and play both sides of every one of those records on my Show’N’Tell. It was my very first record player.
A Show’N’Tell was a popular kid’s record player from the 1960s. that had a built-in screen, and was used to tell stories with still pictures projected on the internal display. You put a cardboard strip with the graphics on film into the top, then played the record. You had to advance the pictures manually when the story narration beeped by pushing the strip down further. It was easy. I had a bunch of stories for it, but the only one I can recall with any certainty is Puss’N’Boots.
My mother showed me how to use the 45rpm adaptor, and adjust the RPM rate on the turntable, so I could play the 45rpm records on my little kiddie Show’N’Tell.
I was entranced, these were grown-up records. It was lots of early rock and roll, like the Beatles, and the Stones, plus the very best of Motown, and Atlantic Records too. It was a fantastic, and comprehensive collection, that looking back, I very much wish I still had.
It’s weird the details I can still recall from this seminal moment in my young development. I didn’t know where to start, so I just randomly picked a record. It’s not like I knew how to read. It was 1967, and I was 4 years old.
I carefully placed my first single on the platter, and I turned the record player on. Once it was spinning, I gently placed the needle on the outer groove.
My ears were suddenly awash with the most amazing sound I’d ever heard in my very young life. It was nothing like I’d ever experienced before. It didn’t sound like the Beatles, it didn’t sound like the children’s songs on my Show’N’Tell records either. It was so unique, and it made me feel like I was a real big boy, listening to grown-up music. I loved it!
That first song I played was “You Really Got A Hold On Me” by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, and I think of it as the first single I ever owned. I know it came in a collection of many others, but it was the first one I played, and I don’t think I can overstate the impact it had on me at the time. The words went way over my head, but the sound. Oh my god, that sound!
I still get the same feeling of pure joy when I listen to it today. You will too, from that classic opening piano hook, to the soaring, mournful vocals. That girl had a tight grip on Smokey’s heart, and you could feel it in every line.
Smokey Robinson & the Miracles – You Really Got a Hold On Me – Live!
“I don’t like you, but I love you”. It hits even harder when the words mean something, but even when they didn’t as a child, I still felt it.
This carefully curated collection was the very best pop music from early to mid 1960s. I struggle to recall every single tune, but there were some standouts.
At the age of 4, I thought the boardwalk in Asbury Park was the only boardwalk on the planet. I also thought it was the most magical place in the world, and I just knew they were singing about it in that song. As I swayed to the music, I closed my eyes, and pictured the amusements along the shore.
The Drifters – Under The Boardwalk – Re-Mastered
Clearly I did not understand the true nature of the activities taking place under the boardwalk. That went way over my head too.
There were quite a few early Beatles singles as well, and I can recall the old green Apple logo on the labels. Baby, you can “Drive My Car” is the one I remember most. Beep-beep beep-beep yeah!
By far, the majority of the singles in the collection were Motown. Besides Smokey and the Miracles, there were The Supremes, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, The 4 Tops, The Temptations, the Jackson 5, Martha and the Vandellas, and probably a whole lot more that I can’t recall. I played all of those records over, and over on my Show’N’Tell.
We left Asbury not long after that. My new record collection got packed away when we moved to Oakhurst, in Ocean Township. We got out of Asbury a few years before riots rocked the city.
Age 13
The Show’N’Tell was replaced by a cheap, portable record player that I used for a few years, but when I was 13 years old, my parents bought me my first proper stereo.
Many of my friends were Jewish, and age 13 was their bar mitzvah year. I think my parents thought I felt a bit left out, since I kept being invited to these massive bar mitzvah receptions, as my friends were showered with many big lavish gifts. I always guessed that’s why they made more of a fuss than usual over my 13th birthday.
My father and I went to a hi-fi shop up on Route 35, and we went into the sound room, to check out different systems. The salesman convinced my father to buy me a Sanyo quadraphonic system, with all the bells and whistles.
The system had a record changer that could play multiple discs, an AM/FM stereo radio receiver, and an 8-track tape deck that could record as well as play them. I knew I’d be driving in a few years, and I could make my own 8-tracks for the car.
Quadraphonic systems never took off, as you might have guessed, since many of you will have never heard the term before. It meant it had 4 speakers, instead of the usual two like a traditional stereo. The salesman said that all LPs and singles would soon be released in a compatible format, so it was future-proof. That never happened, but it was still a great sound system.
That’s the actual model I owned, without the turntable. It’s as close as I could find.
We got it home, and set it up in my bedroom. I didn’t have many records to play, but then I remembered the old collection of 45s from my early childhood. I knew I still had them, and I fished them out of my bedroom closet. They were still in the same old plastic carrying case.
And then I spent the rest of my 13th birthday blasting out all my old favourite classic Motown hits, and more… And they never sounded better!
Age 16 and a 1/2
I got my learner’s permit 6 months before my 17th birthday, and I was excited to start driving. My first car was a Pontiac Firebird Formula. I didn’t keep it long, it was way overpowered for a teenager, and it was a gas guzzler, but it did have an 8-track tape deck.
That was my first car, and it really was that yellow
Someone gave me a copy of James Taylor’s 1979 album, “Flag”, and on it was his cover version of “Up on the Roof”. It immediately brought back memories of the original.
And then once again, I remembered the 45rpm record collection that Sara had given me, and I got it out of the closet. Only this time, I recorded many of the songs onto 8-track tapes.
It finally hit me, how I got this collection. In the 12 or so years I’d had all those records, I never really considered how they came to be in my possession. I’d never really considered the tragedy that inspired Sara’s generosity. Sara’s hearing loss, was my musical gain.
I knew my mother was still friends with Sara mother, Emily. So I asked my mom about her.
My mom explained that Sara was completely deaf now, but she didn’t let it slow her down. She was married, she had children, and she had recently been the first runner-up in the Mrs. New Jersey contest, “in spite of being hard of hearing”. The words in quotes aren’t mine, but are lifted directly from the Asbury Park Press photo caption at the time.
That’s really her! Source: Asbury Park Press
And not Miss New Jersey, but Mrs. New Jersey, a beauty pageant of some sort for married women that was staged back in the 1970s. A quick search online tells me it is still going on today. Who knew?
In all that time, it never dawned on me to ask about Sara, or to consider the painful circumstances that inspired her gift to me. I can remember feeling a profound sense of gratitude. She literally gave me the music I grew up with; it was the soundtrack of my youth.
Southside Jonny and the Asbury Jukes were just starting to break big around this time, and I had one of their early records. On it, he covered Sam Cooke’s “Havin’ A Party”, which was yet another track in my collection of 45s. I love both versions, but Southside made that song his own.
Southside Jonny & the Asbury Jukes – Havin’ A Party – Live NYE 1978 – Capital Theatre – Passaic NJ
The foundation of my musical tastes is so deeply rooted in that collection of 45rpm records. I don’t know what happened to them. When I moved out of my parents’ house, I don’t think I took them with me. And that, was that.
Age 60
Last spring, my original set of AirPods died. They were 5 years old, and served me well, so I replaced them with a new pair of AirPod Pros. With the purchase came a free 6 month trial of Apple Music.
When I bought my first iPod in 2005, I ripped MP3s from every CD I could find in the house, and every CD I bought after that. I started buying digital tracks and albums a few years later, and played them all on my iPhone.
I had a decent collection, but clearly I didn’t have every track ever recorded. A trial with Apple Music came close to fixing that, so I signed up. It pretty much played whatever songs I asked for, and could even find some obscure versions of rare tracks. Colour me impressed.
This is not product placement, I swear. I wish Apple paid me. It’s not too late, phone Tim Cook
“Hey Siri, shuffle Springsteen”, or “shuffle Southside Jonny and the Asbury Jukes.” No problem. Led Zep? The Beatles? The Kinks? The Stones? All good.
And then I tried some genres, and I thought of one I hadn’t listened to in ages. “Hey, Siri, shuffle Motown”.
She replied, “Alright, now shuffling Motown essentials.”
After a few tracks, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles came up, and I heard the first single I’d ever owned, as “You Really Got A Hold On Me” roared out of my speakers. It was the first time I’d heard it in ages. I stopped whatever I was doing, and listened intently.
I still loved the track that day just as much as I did that first time I heard it when I was 4 years old. It was some 56 years later, and it still filled me with as much joy as it did that first time. And then I sobbed.
I sobbed with mixture of joy, and sadness. I was happy that the music of my childhood, and youth, still resonated with me. It still filled my heart with joy. And I was also overcome with sadness; the sadness of loss, and the tangible realisation of the passage of so much time, and of so many people I’ve cared about over the years who are no longer there.
And then I remembered poor, dear Sara. I hadn’t thought of her in such a long time. Her generosity, born from her loss, shaped my musical tastes for my entire life. And in that moment of realisation, the idea for this piece was born.
My musical journey began with a stack of carefully curated 45rpm records. That collection had some of the finest popular music of the early to mid 1960s and it was given to me by a deaf woman, when I was a pre-schooler. No wonder it took me so long to grasp the significance.
That collection was assembled by someone that lost their ability to enjoy the music they so clearly loved, because they gradually were becoming profoundly deaf. And from their unfathomable loss, the foundation of my musical tastes was born.
It was a priceless gift, given from someone who paid a price higher than I can possibly imagine. It took me years to fully appreciate all of this, and even now, I’m not sure if I can truly express how much these songs changed my life. And thanks to the evolution of technology, those tunes all remain part of my life to this day.
Sara
I really didn’t know Sara. I’m sure the day she gave me the records wasn’t the only time I met her, but I doubt I saw her more than half a dozen times in total. Her mother, Emily, and my mother were close friends for years.
I looked for Sara online, and am pretty sure I found her. It’s scary easy to find people online in America with just a few details. She’s still alive, but she no longer lives in NJ.
I also found Sara’s first engagement announcement from the local newspaper in 1962, before we lived in Asbury. It’s how I found the address of my family’s house in Asbury Park. I knew the street name, but I couldn’t for the life of me recall the house number. Remember, I was only 4 years old when we moved out.
Source: Asbury Park Press
It’s also how I learned Sara’s parents were living there when my parents bought the place. I didn’t realise they lived in the house before we did. I guess I never thought about it.
It said she was engaged to a guy serving in the military, in the early 1960s. That could have meant Vietnam. I don’t know what happened, but when she was a contestant in the Mrs. New Jersey contest more than a decade later, she had a different surname from her fiancé mentioned in the clipping. Did they break up? Did he get killed in action? I have no idea.
I also found that photo from the local paper of her being a runner-up in the Mrs. NJ contest. In truth, I misremembered, I thought she was the winner of the contest, and I was trying to fact-check myself. I’m glad I did, for the sake of accuracy, and for finding the photo. That was a bonus.
I debated contacting Sara, sending her a letter, and sharing my story, but in the end I decided against it.
Maybe she would remember me, maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she wouldn’t want to be reminded of such a sad time in her life. Would she even remember such a small, inconsequential moment? It’s me that found meaning in it, perhaps it was one of the worst days of her life.
If I could communicate with Sara, I’d want her to know that she’s one of the few people in my life that made such a huge contribution to who I am today, without ever knowing it. She changed my life in such a positive way. She gave me the priceless gift of music, just as she was losing her ability to enjoy it herself.
I hope you had a good life, Sara. One day when I was four years old, you changed mine in a massive way. I wish you knew. Thank you, Sara. Thank you.
* * *
After a 30 year career as a journalist, working for some of the largest news organisations in the world, including Associated Press and Reuters, and 15 years as a duty news editor for BBC News, Doug – the northlondonhippy is now a full time hippy, and writer. And for the last few years, he’s been #EpilepsyHippy. His life was a whole lot more fun before gaining that new title. For real.
Doug is also the author of “Personal Use by the northlondonhippy.” “Personal Use” chronicles Doug’s years of experience with mind altering substances, while calling for urgent drug law reform. It’s a cracking read, you will laugh, you will cry, and you can bet your ass that you will wish you were a hippy too!
You can also find Doug – the northlondonhippy on Twitter: @nthlondonhippy but only if you look really hard.
And if you want even more, (and who wouldn’t?) you could always check out Hippy Highlights – which is the best of the best stuff on the site, and it’s all free to read. What are you waiting for?
The Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll Collection is a loosely connected series of the northlondonhippy’s most recent written pieces. It was all produced in a 5 week period.
Think of this new, inter-linked collection of material as the hippy’s second book. Effectively it is the sequel to his first book, Personal Use.
You can read all this brand new material for free right now.
December 2023 Update:
The hippy has added another piece to the collection, called “Now, Hear This”.
“Now, Hear This” was first published in November 2023, but the original idea was conceived back in March. It belongs here with the rest of the collection, and is now the introductory piece.
The hippy looks back at the roots of his lifetime love of modern music, through the songs he grew up with, and technology of the day that played it for him.
His journey began when he was 2 years old, and it started with the Beatles, and a couple of years later, Motown and more.
You’ll see, these memories turned out to be a lot more bittersweet than expected, as you read, and listen to “Now, Hear This”.
During the Summer of 1982, when the hippy was still living on the Jersey Shore, he ran into Bruce Springsteen regularly.
Bruce wasn’t just a local hero back then, he was already a major, international rock god. He’d released his first five classic albums, toured the world repeatedly, and only played the largest venues available.
That summer, the hippy saw the Boss hanging out, and performing in small bars down the shore, nearly every weekend. Some nights, more than once. And Bruce saw the hippy, too.
In this four part series, the hippy takes you back to a fairly amazing period of his young adult life.
In the mid 1980s, the hippy was loosely associated with MTV Music Television as an intern, and then occasionally employed by them as a freelance production assistant.
It’s also a tale of unrealised potential, and squandered opportunity, but it has taken the hippy a while to work all that out.
Let’s pause the real life nostalgia briefly, and take a deep dive into some alternative personal history.
There’s no sex, drugs, or rock & roll in this one. “Time Aside” is a twisty tale of time travel, anti-natalism, and regret that’s rooted in the hippy’s real life back story.
It’s bonus content, so check it out! Or you could wait for the movie?
Everyone thinks of dating apps, and websites when they think of meeting people online, but before the internet, in the 1980s, some folks were already playing around online. People were meeting up, and having naughty fun too. And the northlondonhippy was one of them.
The hippy refers to this period of time as the “Pre-Internet” in his recent series called MTV Redux. Thinking about that time was the inspiration for this series.
In the three part series, “Consenting Online Adults”the hippy overshares about many of his experiences.
And in Bonus Part Four, the hippy shares an additional tale from the Pre-Internet that deserves to stand on its own. This piece will leave you with one big question, but in Part Four – “I’ll Never Tell”.
The Ceasefire Initiative – It’s just a small, simple idea to begin the process of finally putting an end to the pointless, useless “war on drugs”. We’re not seeking donations, just your support.
