My Woodstock Memories (Or Lack Thereof)
Recently one of my co-workers asked me if I was going to write about my memories of Woodstock since it’s the 50th anniversary this year. I’m not sure if I should be offended, because I was way too young to go to the concert in 1969.
I decided not to be insulted because I myself feel as if I should have been there. Maybe it’s because the bands that played at Woodstock ended up being my favorites. The Grateful Dead; Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young; Jimi Hendrix; The Who, etc. And the peace and love culture of Woodstock is one I came to embrace. I definitely became a hippie. And maybe Woodstock had something to do with that. Maybe.
The truth is, in 1969 my parents were much more involved with the moon landing, my (much) older brother’s recent engagement, and where we should go for summer vacation. What was happening up in Sullivan County was in the news, but my family was pretty unaffected by it. I was much more into Woodstock after the fact. Like, years after the fact.
So, my Woodstock memories? I guess I don’t really have any. But I guess that Woodstock did help me form the person I eventually became. And I made my own “Woodstock type” memories, only it was a decade later. And I’d like to think that I may have inspired somebody younger than I to embrace a bit of the hippie culture.
Through the years I’ve met lots of people who were at the show. Some of them still consider it the best weekend of their lives, and others remember it as a nightmare. A rainy, muddy, hungry nightmare. How about you? Were you at Woodstock? Care to share your memories? I’d love to hear about them.