THE REAL FORKS: You're a hippie, I'm a hippie

By Christy Rasmussen-Ford


I have a friend named Ethel.


Of course, her real name isn’t Ethel as she is not 80 years old.


Even if she were 80 years old, I wouldn’t tell you because that’s rude.


But she isn’t 80.


Anyway, I used to refer to Ethel as my hippie friend. She takes vitamins and eats healthy and says things like, “Right on!”


Definite hippie right?


Except she isn’t. She is just what we Forks residents consider a hippie.


There are two definitions of the word hippie; a person who rejects the established cultural standards or a woman with rather large hips.


Ethel is not hippie in either sense.


Even if she were hippie by the second definition, I wouldn’t tell you because that would be rude.


But she doesn’t have big hips.


She doesn’t reject cultural standards either. She just takes vitamins and eats healthy and says things like,


“Right on!”


The definition of a hippie in Forks is much greater than just rejecting cultural standards.


Anyone who does anything slightly different is a hippie here. I’m guilty as charged of this as well.


So, Ethel is a hippie here.


A lot of things make us consider someone a hippie. We’re like a non-stop Jeff Foxworthy joke.


“If you do yoga, you might be a hippie!”


“If you eat organic foods, you might be a hippie.”


“If you grow your own food, you might be a hippie!”


But only in Forks. Everywhere else, you are just considered a person.


Ethel has a man-friend named Herbert.


Of course his real name isn’t Herbert as he isn’t 80 either (nor does he have big hips if anyone was wondering).


Herbert has longish hair. It grazes his shoulders maybe.


Because of this detail, people here call him a hippie.


So, Ethel and Herbert are the town hippies with their vitamins and longish hair.


They laugh at the ridiculousness of being considered hippies because of stereotypes.


I have to admit, if I see a man with a shaved head and a really long beard, I automatically assume that he is a biker.


They agreed that they assume as much as well.


Thus, the stereotypees become the stereotypers.


Everyone stereotypes to a certain degree. We’re all human and make rash judgments based on a few physical details.


This is actually a left-over trait from days long ago in which rash judgments and stereotypes kept our ancestors alive.


“Oh, there’s a wolf. Last time we saw a wolf he ate cousin Larry. We should probably stay away from that wolf.”


Maybe the wolf in this instance was a vegetarian, but it did ancestors no good to give the benefit of the doubt. The wolf was probably offended at being stereotyped due to the actions of other wolves, but that’s life.


And if the vegetarian wolf lived in Forks, he would be called a hippie, too.

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