too old for this

Today I saw an undergrad walking around campus without any shoes or socks.

I spotted her first in the IDCE building making her way upstairs to the faculty offices. "That person has misplaced her shoes and socks," I thought empathetically. I awkwardly said hello when she noticed me gawking at her naked feet. Then I saw her walking across the street 30 minutes later---still barefoot, as if it were nothing. I walked uneasily behind her for almost 20 yards when a strange, unfamiliar, anti-hippie rage began to boil up from deep within. "What if she steps on a piece of broken bottle glass" I mused, "or a rabbid squirrel or something?!?!" Both of these scenarios are possible on our urban Worcester campus.

It was then I noticed her dreadlocks, colorfully patched pants (presumably homemade) and punk band hooded sweatshirt. "Hippies..." I grunted to myself, like my sometimes crotchety grandmother in India might have. Grandma is familiar with the hippie typology, especially those who streamed into Calcutta by the thousands after Beatle George Harrison made her homeland suddenly cool in the 60's.

When did I start being a curmudgeonly hippie hater? Next week I'll probably be on the market for an SUV and a good steak.