Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • During "The Sixties" long-haired hippie people used to hang out, get high, dance, sing, and all-around have a fun time on the Boston Public Gardens (sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll). Some of them used to sleep out there too. There were so many that the police couldn't keep them all away. Back in those days, I was pretty much a goodie-two-shoes. My Sicilian mother used to swear on my father's grave that she would never speak to me again as the ultimate threat to keep me in line and sleeping on Boston Gardens or the Common would have been over that line. So it worked. I never did venture out - I missed out on all of it. (There was the Joan Baez concert at Tanglewood in the summer of 1971 that I was too buzzed to remember, but that is a different story.)

    Several years ago, while house-sitting on Marlborough Street in a swanky, ritzy, brick building for my friend's cat, I went for a walk into the Gardens at sunset and sat on a bench. A few couples strolled past, walking hand-in-hand, families meandered with their 2.2 children and others passed by as well. I thought back to those days, The Sixties, and how I wished I could have been more adventuresome, more daring. I wished I had traveled more, learned to speak Chinese, and lived in Sicily. Sitting on that bench brought me right back to those days and those dreams. Reading stories about all the more courageous souls on Cowbird makes me smile without envy. My life is good and it's getting better these days. No more living in the world of what could have been and genuinely enjoying what is. It's all cool.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.