I was looking at my car on Bodega Avenue. Cars were zipping by, and I wondered if it was OK where I’d parked. A guy passing by saw me scoping it out and remarked, “Your car is probably OK. But Sebastopol is a hippie oasis, so you do have to be careful of drivers around here who are pretty checked out.”

Columnist Cami Courtright with one of her favorite Sebasopudlians

Columnist Cami Courtright with one of her favorite Sebasopudlians.

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Overheard outside of Slice of Life: “I don't know how I managed to pull this off ... but I'm dressed like a conservative hippie.”

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A local who grew up in Sebastopol reminiscing: “Used to go to the Analy Theater on Tuesday 50 cent night. We called it Hippie Night. It was packed with hippies that came out of the woods.”

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A friend, having tried to do a voice group text, glanced down frustrated at the mangled names of her co-workers. “Freakin’ Sebastopol and all of these hippie names!”

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A text to a local after her brother-in-law visited: “Land of the hipsters, wine tasters and last stand of the old school hippies.”

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Talking to an older gentleman who owned a coffee cart that he would take to music festivals around the North Bay on a hot afternoon during a music fair. My date and I were attempting to cool off in the shade next to his cart. He told us there was a group of hipsters who were upset with him that he didn’t have more non-dairy options for a chai latte. He did offer almond, soy and rice milk. I asked him what they preferred and he answered, “Hemp. They really wanted hemp milk. Never-satisfied hipsters.”

The guy I was with replied, “Hempsters.”

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Woman sitting outside Community Market: “Yes, the person sitting next to me was a hippie. Or as I like to call them, a ‘hipper-than-thou.’”

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When I was walking to my car parked in the plaza, I heard a young woman saying to her friend: “I totally judged him. Because of his hipster beard. I admit it.”

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A text from a co-worker: “I think we could test theories about hipster beards at Retrograde Coffee in town.”

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A worker at a local café informed me: “Hippies, hipsters. Two very different things...”

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A friend had her cousin visiting from out of town. I asked her how it was going. Her reply:

“He thinks everything around here has to do with hippies: ‘Is this because there are a lot of hippies around here? Is that because of all the hippies?’ He even asked me about the flashing lights at the crosswalks. I was like ‘Dude, what in the world does that have to do with hippies?!’”

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At Ragle Park, I ended up talking to a park employee. I asked if there were any amusing experiences she had encountered there (OK, yes, I was fishing). At first the worker said no, then after a while she remarked: “Well, you do have the barbcque and soccer families, and then kind of the ‘tai chi’ area of the park, and the two rarely mix. Except at the playground, where it’s more of a free-for-all. I remember one day when a girl came up to her mom, sobbing and saying, ‘That little boy called me a hippie girl.’ I thought to myself, there are much worse things you could be called. And since he was wearing a poncho, I don’t even think he meant it as an insult.”

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According to a worker at a local ice cream shop, these are common questions (all to which the answer is “no”):

• Is this cone gluten free?

• Do you have ice cream with no dairy or sugar?

• Do you have sprinkles that are sugar-free?

• Are there any other vegan options besides this one?

• Do you have kombucha?

Cami Courtright is the author of Sebastoblog. Read it at sebastopolgal.blogpost.com.

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