In 1959, Bob Nelson and I left Seattle temporarily and went "barnstorming" around the Berkeley / San Francisco / Sausalito area for a couple of months. Among the coffee houses there, some were devoted to folk music and some were given over to jazz and Beat poetry. We quickly learned that among the "Beatniks," folk singers and folk music in general were held in a great degree of contempt.

The popular (muggle) idea was (and sometimes still is) that folk music was a Beatnik phenomenon, but most definitely not so. At least not in San Francisco's North Beach, where "Beat" was invented and Beat poets and their hanger's on hung out (the Coexistence Bagel Shop, the Anxious Asp. et al, North Beach in general).

Same thing when the term "hippie" came into vogue.

Among the many folk singers that I knew well or met briefly, there were none whom I would identify as "Beatnik" and exceedingly few who could be characterized as "hippies."

Popular bags for the non-cognoscenti to put people into.

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I sang a lot in a coffeehouse called "The Place Next Door" in the late 'Fifties' and well into the 'Sixties,' The owner also owned the art and foreign film theater next door, hence the name. It was like a non-alcoholic night club. Your elbows didn't stick to the tables, and especially on weekends, later in the evening you might see a few tuxedoes and formal gowns in the place—people dropping in after attending a concert or opera downtown. There was a small stage, I sang in sets like a night club act, and the owner paid regularly and reasonably well.

One evening a couple of people came in to "dig the scene." Apparently wanting to blend in with the crowd, they dressed in what they thought was an appropriate manner. They looked more like French Apache dancers than hippies or Beatniks. He wore a pair of nondescript slacks, a T-shirt with wide horizontal stripes, and a peaked cap. She wore a tight red blouse, a black skirt slit up the side, spike heels, a pair of net stockings, and enough eye make-up to paint a battleship. She looked like she had escaped from a production of "Irma la Douce."

As they sat there waiting to be waited on, they observed the crowd. The singer (me) was freshly bathed and clean-shaven and dressed in a nice pair of slacks and a light-weight turtleneck sweater. Most of the crowd were college students and young adults, along with, as mentioned before, a few couples in formal attire. They also became aware that they were the weirdoes there, and they were drawing the comments and snickers. It was a busy evening and it was a few minutes before a waitress could get to them, so they blushingly beat a hasty retreat.

So much for stereotypes.

Don Firth