The Rainbow Man becomes a relic

There was a time when I was known as the rainbow man. It was when I aligned myself with or belonged to a rather renaissance group of rainbow warriors, long before the multicoloured symbol was hijacked by others.

Dressed in multicoloured clothing with henna orange hair and covered with bangles and beads complete with dreadlocks and beard I toured the land in my trusted VW camper ‘Doris’ which was also decorated with rainbows.

There was no definite agenda other then ‘love and peace’ Admittedly this movement was already coming to an end as the hippy revolution was parodied on TV screens as being somewhat outdated, something I was unaware of not having a TV.

Glastonbury was my place of choice to live. Not the Glastonbury music venue most are familiar with once attended by a small travelling band of rainbow warriors . That Glastonbury sold out and became a multi million pound slick operation only accessible to those with the cash, ‘all property is theft’ and Glastonbury was stolen. Part of the old Glastonbury spirit remains but it is one we rarely see on our screens. I’m glad to say that the Rainbow’s End cafe is still going strong and hardened groups still travel the land or have established permanent camps in green corners of the planet.

There was no real agenda, no throwing orange dust at huge sporting events, no moaning about this or that victimisation. There was just an awareness and a choice of way of life. It was an individual choice, a path taken and it could be hard. When one is young the harshness of that way of life is not troublesome. The cold doesn’t bite as much, the joy of living kicks in and there is no time to glue oneself to a piece of art.

We were seen as the odd bods, the unwashed and often the purveyors of hashish. We did not see ourselves as victims of anything. As with Glastonbury, the rank and file have taken it upon themselves to dictate the agenda, the noise, the publicity and the attention. The few times I have caught a glimpse of the festival filled me with sadness. Instead of the spirit of Glastonbury naturally beaming from the souls of those gathered we see vacant motionless zombies waiting for the camera to point in their direction before they leap into action and gaze right down the lens. Can you see me world. Perhaps that is a rather cynical view and perhaps it is the result of the ageing process. Kids these days don’t know they’re born etc.

There is much to bemoan the loss of. Never in a million years would I have contemplated a Labour government dictating how we live. Yes we were always at odds with the government, the man, the establishment. We would talk and put the world to rights and marvel at the people of Greenpeace in their little boats trying to stop the whaling ships. We lived with the fear of a nuclear war and wore badges stating our opposition to nuclear weapons. Slowly but surely the state has interfered and increased the pages in the rule book according to them. I hesitate to use the word them as it conjures up the conspiracy theory direction. But them is us and apologies for what sounds like a grammatical error to the old school bods but to the new school it will be perfectly acceptable.

As with all generations and all movements, they eventually become outdated or adapt. The Generation X have become wizened souls sitting at cafes or lingering in shopping malls reminiscing over yesteryear while the me me generation plead victimisation and cry foul wherever and whenever it suits. Unlike the hippies of old there is an underlying aggression especially online. Perhaps that rainbow warrior in me is stubbornly refusing to give way to this generation, who have in their own way taken up the baton and are raging against the machine. Antiestablishmentarianism is a long word and for good reason. It sums up the core principles of any movement opposed to the dictatorship of the few over the many whichever way you want to dress it up. Any political philosophy that views a nation’s or society’s power structure as corrupt, repressive, exploitative, or unjust. I’m sure I will be rebuked for even suggesting that is the case. As we move forward this news provider is embracing green energy to run the business. I am thankful for so many changes but very weary of many other. I am content to be a relic but the writings will continue in the hope that one day someone might actually read these missives. Love and Peace.