Outside culture / inside culture, poseurs, wannabes, sycophants and leeches. 60's faux pas: Mistaking Ian Anderson for Jethro Tull. And recall the Pink Floyd lyric: "oh by the way... which one's Pink?" I learned some undesirable behavior from my father: Taking a little bit of knowledge and insinuating expertise. e.g. "That's a first-basemen's mitt isn't it?" In 7th through 12th grades in Michigan 1968-72 I was increasingly taking on the hippie mantle. On a lengthy summer '72 road trip my buddy and I couldn't resist cruising the Haight in S.F. uncomfortably knowing we were like most other tourists, desperately trying to believe we were more "in" than out. But the neighborhood was so tired of it, the Ashbury cross-street sign had been removed. Or was it the desire of a collector, a museum, traffic control or a vandal?