Don't let that hippy scum near your daughter either! Make sure he just trims the verge and not her hedge. Young women are the only ones gullible enough to buy that being poor by choice, romantic bullshit they spew. Next thing you know, she's knocked up and our aging hippy boy's run off to avoid the spector of responsibility knocking on his Peter Pan fantasy world. The grandson you raise will only know his dad by the gifts he sends every several years: pooka beads, hemp crystal bags, and Jack Johnson mix-tapes.