Remembering Woodstock 1969

Man, who could forget that moment in history, forty years ago, when we gathered, half a million strong, for those few days of Peace, Love and Music? OK, so maybe I was not there, but I heard about it on the TV news. Hey, my wife and I had jobs in those days; responsibilities - rent, careers, and a baby on-the-way.

It was actually a memorable summer for us - but, not because of any music concert. In July we had taken a cruise to Bermuda as a sort of delayed honeymoon. How un-cool. We were young, clean cut, and had probably never heard of Jimmi Hendrix or Janis Joplin. We were still under the musical influence of Bobby Darren and The Kingston Trio. The gathering at Woodstock would never have appeared on our radar. We were trying to break-in, not drop-out. We did not even know anyone that did drugs or practiced free love.

One of my musical memories was driving through the Sumner Tunnel in Boston and hearing an unfamiliar but haunting song that was playing loudly on someone’s 8 track tape. (In those days there was no radio reception in the tunnels). The vocal harmony was magnetic and thrilling to me, but I did not recognize the artists. It was only when the Woodstock movie came out, I was able to identify the group and the song - "Judy Blue Eyes" by Crosby, Stills, Nash and (I think) Young. Ok, I know what you are thinking, I was out of touch. So sue me.

When the story came out about Woodstock - 3 days of sharing close proximity with masses of drugged out hippies who had not bathed recently, dancing in the mud and blocking your view of the stage, standing in line for the few porta-potties with 399,999 other bursting bladders, I was secretly glad that I was not there. I say 'secretly', because everyone thought you were cool if you could claim to have been there. Only a clueless dolt would admit that a) he didn't go and b) did not regret missing it.

Most of the performers at Woodstock are probably dead by now, if not forgotten. And, most of the attendees who survived the drugs and STD's would be at the age where they are retired or wish they were. For me, it is hard to believe that forty years have passed like a fast freight train in the night.