Once they were hippies; now they are yuppies. Twenty-five years ago, they might have prowled Bleecker Street looking for Woody Allen or Bob Dylan or a quick fix of transcendence. Now they are back in Manhattan's Greenwich Village in search of an easy key to their past. Most of the crowd filing into the Top of the Village Gate is early middle-aged, with a sprinkling of children. The occasion could be parents' night at a progressive school. Instead it is a rite of commercial nostalgia: Beehive, two hours of songs from girl singers and girl groups of the '60s. Six wailing...
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