Hippies Use Side Door

Wandering around/running errands in the land of white, upper-middle class, fancy tennis skirt wearing Panera Bread peoples has made me reflect on the small wonders I am now missing out on back in my soon to be ex-city.

For example, on pleasant days you could always count on the tall, skinny hippie woman to be playing her violin outside Giant Eagle. She had a hat out for money, but she was never forceful. She was incredibly nice and good-natured. Trudging to and from the grocery store between some form or another of law school death usually made me envy her; I wanted to be rockin' out on the violin.

She was also really talented. Usually random street musicians are playing some version of Hot Cross Buns, but this woman really knew the instrument and had memorized some incredibly challenging pieces. I don't think she was homeless, and I'm not even sure that she needed the money. I think, or at least I like to believe, that she just loved to play. She understood what she did for people. And, Giant Eagle never made her leave their property. They must have assumed that happy customers meant loose credit cards.

Rats off to ya, violin playing hippie woman. I will always remember the vibrant, ephemeral joys of your music and disposition.