where it's hippie day every day

hippie fest in fairfax last weekend made guy and i realize we have what may be years before we acclimate. ties dyes. those sticks boys throw around. hacky sacks....met our neighbors, the grateful dead ones last night. turns out the people we've been seeing walk around naked were housesitters, "housesitters from hell" to quote the GD people. the real neighbors seem very nice and fun. we were on our upper deck last night and it looks directly into their living room. the wife saw us and opened the windows in total Beverly hillbilly style saying, HEY!! and we chatted. she said "so, my husband (husband comes to the window. he's the dude who plays jerry's parts now), is a pro musician and sometimes his guitar playing gets loud. if it's ever too loud, just let us know. some people around here... (she points up the hill and sticks her tongue out) ...prefer to call the COPS (roll of eyes)."

we're like "SURE! sometimes we're loud too, so we'll just stay in touch!" and grateful dead guy is standing right behind her smiling, maybe waiting for us to ask what "pro musician" means, but we don't indulge him. we say nothing. even though i'm thinking "backstage passes, possible music connections for more music funtime (not the dead)," we stay silent about it. she says, "Cool, we'll have you over soon and we can swap numbers and stuff!" i like them immediately. i imagine us being greeted with deliciously aged scotch, eating sloppy food and smoking joints right after dinner. i imagine being able to arrive at their house barefoot, and being very comfortable.