I'm gonna build a chain of dyed in the silkscreen hippy communes for boomers who don't want to go to senior's jails for their sunset years. No meds. Just old girls serving lentils and sausages and lots of whole wheat and dates in buns and bread and the Friday mead and beer bottoms up. Wood stoves and cold showers and a quiet turn when the end comes. Isn't that what the Moody Blues would have wanted?