I grew up in that magical, psychedelic era when people suddenly sprouted social causes like pinfeathers on a baby chicks back. What had been all dullness and conformity in the 50's, suddenly became wild and free and full of righteous anger, rebellion and expression. There were activists for women's rights, animal rights, Black Power rights, equal rights, free love rights, prisoner reform rights...and so many others that I can't even think.
Because it was all so new and so happening, it was often confusing. Like when my cousin Skeeter Jean thought that a 'Save the Whales' rally was actually a 'Save the Veals' protest. After all, what kind of hard life did a whale have when compared to the horrid confinement and ill treatment of those sweet little baby veal calves?
Or like when I found out we were supposed to be burning our bras. I had just gotten my first bra. I needed it. I didn't want to burn it! It was from J.C. Penney's and cost almost 5 dollars! My mom would KILL me if I burnt that bra.
Anyway. It's no surprise to me that for all these years I thought, when The Doors were singing "God-Damn the Pusherman", that they were actually singing "God Damn the Butcher Man!"
You know, like a Vegetarian's Theme Song. Ha, ha, ha! Save the VEALS!