I used to believe that the Boomers were civilization's most self-obsessed generation, but the recent raft of reflections occasioned by the passing of John Hughes made me realize that maybe no one group of people has a monopoly on nostalgia and self-importance. Still, until Barack Obama pushes through those DEATH PANELS, we are stuck with the Boomers and their endless series of anniversaries for events that seemed earth-changing at the time but, with the distance of history, turned out to be just a bunch of people shitting in a field in upstate New York. That's right: The hippie fuckfest that was Woodstock happened forty years ago this weekend! Listen to the music or watch the documentary and then give your mom and dad a call and ask them all about it. You'll be performing an act of kindness: You know how old people love to talk.
Friday, August 14, 2009
12
My dullard parents have exactly zero fun hippie stories. My dad worked for the Nixon campaign, AND THEN worked for CREEP four years later. It could be worse.
Woah the synchronicity with Gawker has been pretty uncanny for the last couple of days...
http://gawker.com/5337433/old-hippies-still-selling-us-crappy-old-concert
Or, you know, we both read the Journal.
Bunch of no-good doped up kids.
I am the heir of nothing in particular.
I leave the prescience to my rhetorical mentor, Robert Christgau, reviewing the soundtrack, and capturing the vibe (we didn't capitalize it, or on it (that much), back then):
I left one thing out of my Woodstock article," says Tom Smucker, author of a good one. "I left out how boring it was." And though you can be sure it's not like being there, this three-record set does capture that. As is inevitable in a live album featuring stage announcements, crowd noises, and sixteen different artists, not one side is enjoyable straight through: CSNY are stiff and atrociously flat in their second gig, Paul Butterfield sounds wasted, Sha Na Na should never record, Joan Baez should never record, and so forth. But a substantial proportion of this music sounds pretty good, and three performances belong to history: Ten Years After's "I'm Going Home" (speed kills), Joe Cocker's "With a Little Help From My Friends" (mad Englishman), and Jimi Hendrix's "Star Spangled Banner" (wotta ham). Also, the stage announcements and crowd noises are better than most.
And Statins? Most definitely, whippersnapper. Designer Statins.
I remember trying to watch the film back in the 80s when my friends and I had long hair and liberal hygiene habits and enjoyed hallucinogens on a regular basis (which I can't even begin to understand now), and even then, at the height of my naive admiration of the 60s, I thought the thing was a terrible bore.
My favorite part is the end when you get to see the mountains of trash left behind.
Love ain't free, kids.
The Wall Street Journal on Woodstock? I prefer to get my sophistry from real sophists.
You might enjoy this:
http://trueslant.com/ryansager/2009/08/14/40-years-ago-wsj-on-woodstock/
Thanks. That is cool. I love this line:
"All generations need the help of all others. Ours is asking yours to be men rather than children, before some frightened tyrant with the aid of other frightened and ignorant men seeks to make all of us slaves in reaction to your irresponsibility.â€Â
And then Nixon becomes president.
My mom went to Woodstock and stayed in a tent with three dudes! But they actually paid for tickets in advance, so I think they were too square to have hippie free-love orgies. My dad (this was before my parents met) came up from NYC without tent or sleeping bag or shelter of any kind, then left after one day because it was too filthy and repulsive even for him. GOOD TIMES WITH THE HIPPIES.