Woodstock. It was my era. An era of of nations at war. It was era of a hippies. An era when the infamous two finger “Peace” symbol was born and an era where the slogan “Make Peace Not War” was emblazoned around the globe. It was also an era or Rock music and The Rollong Stones, an era where drugs and free sex was openly preached.
For those who were borned in the 60’s Woodstock will not mean much to them. They might remember Woodstock of later years, but the one and only Woodstock for me was the mother of all Woodstocks, the first one that was The Woodstock Festival held at Max Yasgur’s 600 acre dairy farm in the rural town of Bethel, New York from August 15 to August 18, 1969. Then, I was only 12.
On the verge of breaking into adolescence, starting to form opinions of my own rather than listening to those of my parents, Woodstock to me then was something that fitted perfectly. I tie dyed all my white T-shirts that I was suppose to wear for my schools sports activities. I drew a big peace sign on the bathroom door, much to the displeasure of my parents. I had pictures and portraits of Santana, of Jimi Hendrix, of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, of Blood, Sweat & Tears and almost all who performed at the Woodstock Festival pasted to the roof of my small and cramped room. I did not want my hair cropped, but was forced to due to strict school regulations. Given any chance, I will scream sing,
“Someone told me long ago, There’s a calm before the storm..I knoWWWWWWWW!!!………”. That’s the song, “Have You Ever Seen The Rain” by Creedence Clearwater Revival, in case you are wondering.
My parent’s faces wore a worried look, thinking their number one son had truly turned mad.
But I kept my sanity, even though I never really grew over Woodstock till today. When I dropped out of school and walked into the reality of the harsh cruel world, I dreamed of the day when I will just pack my clothes into a backpack and hike my way to the next Woodstock. It was a dream that was never realized even after 40 years. Nevertheless, I did get the chance to keep my hair flowing down my shoulders and did save enough to buy a coarse steel necklace with a big Peace symbol locket to wear around my neck. That was the closest I could get to my dream.
Today, that locket still hangs in my room, along side my wedding picture and pictures of my daughters wearing their mortar caps. Whenever I look at it, it brings back fond memories of years gone by. It gives me an uncontrollable urge to want to scream sing, “Have You Ever Seen The Rain” again. But I am wiser now. And very much older. If I do that, my wife and daughters will come rushing in, thinking their old man must have seen a ghost. Instead, I just turn my eye back to the computer screen, pondering about the next article to write, humming softly to myself.. “got a black magic woman…got a black magic woman…”
Happy 40th Anniversary, Woodstock my friend.
Make Peace, Not War.
