Where have all the hippies gone? They kept moving north – eventually ending up in Alaska. The Forest Faire is an annual gathering of music, art, food, and freethinking in the forest near Girdwood 34 miles south of Anchorage. I thought I was in a time warp and had gone back forty years to the deepest darkest recesses of hippiness. Birkenstocked, tye dyed, organic, madras draped, dread locked, and pot smoking people of all ages filtered through the trees. Good food, good music, and good genuine people. What a concept! Kind of like a super mini New Orleans Jazz Fest in the forest.
Ironically, I had some of the best fried catfish cooked by an old New Orleans Black man. He had been in Alaska for many years and only cooked for events like this. His red beans and rice were also worthy.
Also, I had to laugh when a Zydeco band began playing “Walking To New Orleans” and “Don’t Touch My Mudbugs Or You’ll Pull Back A Stump.” It’s nice to hear some of that New Orleans music without being surrounded by the bullshit.
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