Lots of people never made it to Woodstock, in part because the 400,000 who did caused the most famous traffic jam in New York history.But for those of us who missed it because of the inconvenience of having not yet been born, the concert's 40th anniversary is instinctively less a cause for celebration than an excuse to plug our ears. We know the basics — or think we do.
It was three days of music, peace, love and nudity remembered with greater clarity by those who weren't present than those who were.
For decades, our boomer elders have wielded that muddy weekend at Max Yasgur's farm as a signature accomplishment. To have not been alive during Woodstock, we're told, was to have missed the freest moment in American history.
1 comment:
What a very sullen commentary. It smacks oddly of sour grapes; and god forbid that we could be correct in our thinking that the 1960s were an amazing time to be alive, and that thirty years of Reaganomics and Thatcherism craftily and viciously undermined the whole enterprise - which certainly wasn't about getting stoned and drooling 'far out, man' at every opportunity. I'll take Hendrix's Star-Spangled Banner over Billy Ray Cyrus pimping for his prematurely whore-fashioned daughter at the Teen Awards any day...
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