Hippie was very comfortable to live with. He was easy going, warm and generally content. He assumed positions of leadership but never led, which was a stance very agreeable with those around him. The competitive world and 'worldlies' found his philosophy acceptable, if not agreeable, to their own end-oriented lifestyles. Hippie didn't threaten their existence or success and in that he solitarily was a trustworthy companion. In some sense perhaps, he emitted a hopefulness that made the world a less ghastly place to be in even if they chose not to subscribe to his ideals. If he cared to believe, and seemingly intelligently so, perhaps there was some hope.

Either his ideology held weight; in which case solace may be sought in that there was always his option to fall back on, since he was always welcoming in his ventures, or capers as some were apt to jocularly phrase them. Most often, and more so to his acquaintances and not his own, sheer disregard or disbelief in his way served to happily reinforce the path they had chosen for themselves. To say they had chosen it was granting them a lot more than I would care to, for choice presupposes at least one other considerable option, which is more than they would allow themselves. To have options scared most people; for then there was always the chance that one may be wrong in one's decision. It was much easier to tread the beaten path. I had many such qualms, having made choices, which seemed to lead off the yellow brick road. It was in this uneasiness and inherent apparent disorder that I was at conflict with Hippie. Hippie was easy to live with. I was not. Luckily, for those around and not for me, I had to live only with Hippie. He was not easy to live with. He was even less so to live up to.

The saga continues...