Talkin' Bout my Generation

Listener Dear, if you know anything about this blog, you know about the local concerts at the park on Sunday evenings in the summertime.

Likewise, if you know anything about my generation, you know about Woodstock.

If you've never heard of this three-day event in upstate New York, you're likely not part of my generation,  Dear One .  Maybe you're very young, and know nothing of the history of the United States.   Perhaps you don't even live in this country.  You may not care for music,  may have never heard of a musician named Arlo Guthrie (and his father Woody).  How about Bob Dylan?  I hesitate to ask it.  Do you...er...know anything at all about the war in Vietnam? Or, ahem, president Richard Nixon?  How about Martin Luther King, Jr.? John F. Kennedy and his brother Bobby? Marching for Civil Rights? For Women's Rights?  I sure don't mean to be rude, but, Reader Dear, is there anything you know about this whole pot-smoking, bra-burning, protesting shebang of an era?

 Whatever.  Just google it all, Reader Dear.  Be sure to include the year 1969 (A.D. --though, looking backward through all those decades, one might be tempted to think it was B.C.)  My generation was young in those days.  We wore bell-bottom pants and tie-dyed shirts.  We wore flowers in our (long) hair. Some of us called ourselves Hippies.   Some of us smoked pot.  Some of us bummed rides.  Some of us (about a half-million strong) took off to New York for three days of music (Sigh, don't look at me, Dear Reader.  I wasn't groovy enough to be at this fantastic and free-wheeling event, though I pondered the trip.  [Since we're doing time travel here, you might say the event "went viral"])

Dance to the Music:
Sly and the Family Stone

 Back to the present: There are three times during the summer when a Saturday night concert is held at the park.  This one that I attended yesterday was billed as Woodstock Anniversary Celebration.

Yes, yes, Reader Dear, fifty years ago many in my generation spoke of each other as "brother" and "sister" (slight smile) and talked quite a bit about "peace" and "love." We wanted nothing to do with war, anymore!  Though the performers at this local event did not fool me into thinking they were the originals, it was fun to have the old memory jogged as far as singers and songs.  Here's just a tiny sample, Listener Dear.

Now, this next song was not performed at Woodstock.
It's about Woodstock.
The song is Woodstock.
Joni Mitchell

(It's a long song. Here's
a link with a great rendition by Cosby, Stills, Nash
Camera footage of the actual Woodstock)

Some of the lyrics:

"I came upon a child of God
He was walking along the road
And I asked him, where are you going
And this he told me
I'm going on down to Yasgur's farm
I'm going to join in a rock 'n' roll band
I'm going to camp out on the land
I'm going to try an' get my soul free
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

.....
By the time we got to Woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song and celebration
And I dreamed I saw the bombers
Riding shotgun in the sky
And they were turning into butterflies
Above our nation
We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden
Caught in the devil's bargain
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden"

********

Janis Joplin:

 Take a load off Fanny
The Band

Though it's hard to wrap it up,
I'll have to close. with this one:


"It's getting to the point where I'm no fun anymore.
Sometimes it hurts so badly* I must cry out loud."

*Wow, talk about projecting 50 years into the future!**
**Here we are; my generation's got heads, hearts, and hips that are hurting, as well as many other parts of the anatomy!***
***And, sadly, we didn't do such a great job at getting back to the garden, either.

On second thought, Listener Dear, I'll close on a more upbeat note:

Well, that's it!

The concert ended.
I gathered up my lawn chair,
said goodbye to friends.

And, just like that, it was fifty years later!