AN OLD HIPPIE LEARNS NEW TRICKS by Ashantay Peters

Roses and Readers, join me in welcoming Ashantay as our guest blogger. I really enjoyed it (since I totally identify), and I think you will, too.
 

I am an old hippie. Wait, what I mean is that when I was younger—much younger but we won’t go into that—I wore loose fitting clothes, tie-dyed shirts, ripped jeans, and patchouli oil. I listened to a lot of psychedelic music and didn’t pay much attention to the way things “should be” or live a traditional life. Because, as an early twenty-something, I had all the answers, and they didn’t match the ones my parents had.

Fast forward (loud cough) decades, and I’m still wearing loose-fitting clothes, though I save my scruffy jeans for gardening. I don’t use patchouli oil as my nasal passages have a problem with the grocery store’s soap aisle, and I now prefer light herbal scents. But if you stopped by you’d be more likely to hear Eric Clapton or Led Zepplin played on my stereo than the current top forty.

And unlike twenty-somethings, I know I don’t have all the answers, but I’m willing to let the mystery be.

But like so many Boomers, I seem to be stuck In a personal time-warp viewing myself as still young and vital. Not having the energy to run full-out ten plus hours a day came as a shock. And I wonder who the heck transplanted my mother’s wrinkles and her neck wattles onto my body when I wasn’t looking. Wasn’t I attending be-ins and outdoor rock concerts just yesterday?

So when older protagonists clamored at me, wanting their stories told, I was a bit surprised. Then I wrote their tales. In the process, I came to terms with my aging, and isn’t that the best part of reading and writing books? Learning something about yourself or others?

Like my characters, I’ve experienced much of life and find I don’t regret what I did or didn’t do – even the stuff I’m not so proud about. I’m not perfect but I can live with myself, though I admit I don’t like looking into mirrors a whole lot. I wish I had more energy, but I’ve learned to pace myself, and that was an important lesson all on its own.

Due to my experiences, I look at life differently than many my age. I’m less conservative, more willing to think about change but understand fear of the unknown. I’ve learned to merge the varied aspects of me into a more cohesive soul and come closer to understanding life – exactly why I experimented as a young adult. And I think I’ve learned the trick of remaining young, at heart and in mind if not in body. At least I think I know the path to take, and that’s cool.

Life is a trip, isn’t it?

Blurb:

Rock star Jack Reed has secrets. He’s kept his first marriage to a girl he met at Woodstock, and their son, under wraps for decades. Now his child has tracked him down wanting answers.

Former hippie Sally Ford never fully recovered from Jack’s betrayal of their family. She believes he put his career first then and will again, leading to another shattered ending.

Jack and Sally’s first meeting is combustible. Can they confront their past and overcome a history of deceit and manipulation to find peace and love?

Excerpt:

         “And how is Sally, uh, I mean, your mother?” He wasn’t sure why he’d asked about a woman who’d torn out his heart, but too late to call back the words.

         “I call her Sally in public, Mom in private. Can’t remember how that got started but it works for us. She’s fine.”

         “She didn’t have a problem with us meeting?”

         “No, no, she’s fine.”

         Jack knew bullshit when someone spun it, and Carlos wove a blanket. He raised his eyebrows. “Really? I figured she’d fight this get-together.”

         “Nope.” Carlos chuckled. “Okay, she didn’t look happy, more resigned. Maybe a little scared.”

         She doesn’t want me around. I can get down with that feeling.

          “You’re not pissed with me or her, are you? For keeping quiet about my identity? The band hit crazy big on that first tour. She, we thought you’d be better off out of the spotlight.”

         Carlos tilted his head to the side, and Jack recognized Sally in the gesture. “I haven’t had time to digest the information. I guess you both had a good reason for the charade, and even though I’m not pressing now, I’ll want answers.”

         Icy fingers gripped his gut. “So my leaving did piss you off.”

         “Not totally.”

         Jack held on to his coffee cup with both hands, happy his son hadn’t walked out yet. Sure, he’d signed away his rights to Carlos, but Sally had been impossible to find after she’d left. She’d made it clear—through lawyers—that he’d only screw up their son, and he’d believed her.

Then his actions had proved her right.

Buy Links

The Wild Rose Press – http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=242_175_140&products_id=6524

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/D%C3%A9j%C3%A0-Vu-All-Over-Again/dp/1509204148/