When the Moon is in the Seventh House...

My friend Tricia is having her 35th birthday party this Saturday night.
She was born in 1967 so she's having, "A Summer of Love" themed party.
We are supposed to dress in 60's clothes...
Let's see, back then, I wore faded denim shirts and ripped jeans with paint all over them.
Thirty-five years later, I still wear faded denim shirts and ripped jeans with paint all over them, only lots larger now.
An outdoor party in August wearing jeans? I don't think so.
Back then, I had long, wavy Janis Joplin hair. Too hot for that now, too, so a wig is out.
She told me that the party wouldn't be "truly authentic," because her lover's sister was bringing her cop boyfriend as a date, and someone else invited an assistant district attorney.
Jesus, what kind of 60's party is this going to be?
I think I will wear a white short sleeved cotton shirt with a pocket protector and some black pants and go as Ralph Nader. I'll just keep bitching about the safety records of Chevy Corvairs all night.
God knows I'm not going to be dropping acid or blowing any weed with a bunch of law enforcement people around. Not that I would, but I do like having the damn option.