Move to Seattle. It’s still the 1970’s in Seattle. Not everywhere. Nowhere shiny and Amazon and condos with skinny grey doors. If you can fit yourself into people’s lives you’ll find the 70’s. They drink tea made with tea balls in teapots. Light incense that coats the walls with sticky smokey sex. There is an altar in the hallway full of tiny hard plastic animals and seashells, they are praying to a God we don’t know. No one has to shave or wear ironed clothes. The neighbors next door are having a drum circle. Withering long plants in the livingroom are wearing macrame funeral clothes and the cacti are in cracked painted pots. The co-op has the spirit of the 1970’s, but the sprouts are overpriced.