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I can't stop grinning: Woodstock is playing on the Independent Film Channel. Yes, I was there. Yes, I have the pictures to prove it. I used to have home movies, too, but I lost them somewhere in my travels. Man, I can't believe that it's been almost 40 years. Many, many, many good memories from those days as surprising as that may sound. I mean we were in the middle of a very divisive war in Viet Nam that was tearing the country apart right down to the family level. There were assassinations and riots and bombings and huge demonstrations - and nobody was passive or indifferent or just too cool to be bothered. It was a terrible wonderful time.
I know that hippies have a bad reputation now, and I hate that. What gets shown in retrospectives or commented on by pundits and comedians are the extremes, of course. But we wanted to matter, you know? Not everyone was a rich kid drop-out, and almost everyone I knew was involved in trying to make things better at some level. That's the time period when grass roots organizing took off in a big way. Power to the People wasn't an empty slogan then. And we changed things. We got day care centers and better housing for the poor, food banks, cooperative grocery stores; I personally was involved in getting a law passed that forbade the public utilities from shutting off people's heat in the winter. (Yes, it used to be allowed.) We were involved with a capital I.
Sigh.
Anyway, for those who haven't heard my Woodstock story, here's the short version. I never got to see any of the concert. Wait - I did get to see Creedence Clearwater Revival playing through the rear window of my friend's car (the Zuzumobile!) as we were driving away after he and my brother rescued my friends and me after my car died at the side of the road about a mile from the concert grounds. (Huge freakin' miracle that they stumbled across us in that mass of people.) Paula and I actually had staked out some ground pretty close to the stage, but by the time the actual music was about to start, I had heat exhaustion and a massive anxiety attack from being in that huge crush of people. Paula took me to the medical tent where they immediately assumed I was having a bad trip ("Poor baby girl," I remember one of the doctors/nurses? cooing at me sympathetically) - so they shot me full of sedatives. Heeee! I was high for two days :) We went back to my car and ended up hooking up with the guys in the van right behind us; we basically spent the time there hanging out on top of their van and crowd watching. And, OK, getting stoned. Or in my case, stoneder :) I had to go to the movie to see all the music that I'd missed. Ha!
Right on, babies. Right freakin' on.
I know that hippies have a bad reputation now, and I hate that. What gets shown in retrospectives or commented on by pundits and comedians are the extremes, of course. But we wanted to matter, you know? Not everyone was a rich kid drop-out, and almost everyone I knew was involved in trying to make things better at some level. That's the time period when grass roots organizing took off in a big way. Power to the People wasn't an empty slogan then. And we changed things. We got day care centers and better housing for the poor, food banks, cooperative grocery stores; I personally was involved in getting a law passed that forbade the public utilities from shutting off people's heat in the winter. (Yes, it used to be allowed.) We were involved with a capital I.
Sigh.
Anyway, for those who haven't heard my Woodstock story, here's the short version. I never got to see any of the concert. Wait - I did get to see Creedence Clearwater Revival playing through the rear window of my friend's car (the Zuzumobile!) as we were driving away after he and my brother rescued my friends and me after my car died at the side of the road about a mile from the concert grounds. (Huge freakin' miracle that they stumbled across us in that mass of people.) Paula and I actually had staked out some ground pretty close to the stage, but by the time the actual music was about to start, I had heat exhaustion and a massive anxiety attack from being in that huge crush of people. Paula took me to the medical tent where they immediately assumed I was having a bad trip ("Poor baby girl," I remember one of the doctors/nurses? cooing at me sympathetically) - so they shot me full of sedatives. Heeee! I was high for two days :) We went back to my car and ended up hooking up with the guys in the van right behind us; we basically spent the time there hanging out on top of their van and crowd watching. And, OK, getting stoned. Or in my case, stoneder :) I had to go to the movie to see all the music that I'd missed. Ha!
Right on, babies. Right freakin' on.
