Comments on: Daily Dose for August 15, 2007 http://xponentialmusic.org/blogs/885mmmm/2007/08/14/daily-dose-for-august-15-2007/ Just another Xponentialmusic.org weblog Thu, 04 Dec 2008 19:10:05 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=wordpress-mu-1.2.1 By: Kathy O'Connell http://xponentialmusic.org/blogs/885mmmm/2007/08/14/daily-dose-for-august-15-2007/#comment-2428 Kathy O'Connell Mon, 20 Aug 2007 21:06:42 +0000 http://xponentialmusic.org/blogs/885mmmm/2007/08/14/daily-dose-for-august-15-2007/#comment-2428 I had just graduated from high school, and was a major "weekend hippy," so I just assumed I'd be allowed to go to Woodstock. Imagine my surprise when my mother told me that my assumption was all wrong. I was allowed to attend protest marches against the war, freely roamed the streets of New York City on my own, and was actually living on my own (attending summer college classes to atone for bad math prep in high school). So, the logical conclusion was that there'd be no argument against my joining 400,000 of my closest friends in the massive mudpile of Woodstock. My mother learned of my plan when I hung up the phone with a friend and said, "I'm going up to Woodstock, okay?" as I ran by her to grab a bag for the trip. We spent the rest of the weekend fighting about it, although I admit history has proven her right not to let me go. It didn't stop me from claiming for years that I had gone---"It was muddy. It was rainy. I was miserable"---was the way I described "being" there. I had just graduated from high school, and was a major “weekend hippy,” so I just assumed I’d be allowed to go to Woodstock. Imagine my surprise when my mother told me that my assumption was all wrong. I was allowed to attend protest marches against the war, freely roamed the streets of New York City on my own, and was actually living on my own (attending summer college classes to atone for bad math prep in high school). So, the logical conclusion was that there’d be no argument against my joining 400,000 of my closest friends in the massive mudpile of Woodstock. My mother learned of my plan when I hung up the phone with a friend and said, “I’m going up to Woodstock, okay?” as I ran by her to grab a bag for the trip. We spent the rest of the weekend fighting about it, although I admit history has proven her right not to let me go. It didn’t stop me from claiming for years that I had gone—”It was muddy. It was rainy. I was miserable”—was the way I described “being” there.

]]> By: Obi http://xponentialmusic.org/blogs/885mmmm/2007/08/14/daily-dose-for-august-15-2007/#comment-1442 Obi Wed, 15 Aug 2007 14:18:18 +0000 http://xponentialmusic.org/blogs/885mmmm/2007/08/14/daily-dose-for-august-15-2007/#comment-1442 I had just turned 12, and our family was back in upstate NY after 18 months in Oregon/California. Apollo 11 had just landed on the moon not a month before, and the success and worldwide TV broadcast of that event had seemed to add to the optimistic utopian feelings yearned for at that time, countering the strife both here at home and in VietNam, streamed daily on those same TVs on the nightly news. The things I can remember clearly are the local AM radio news reports from that weekend; The NYS thruway clogged and closed, the mass of people decending on the little town, the stormy weather, and the almost miraculous way that all those ingredients managed to avoid even a hint of tragedy - a validation that the ideals of the new generation were possible. That fall, In Junior High, those new possibilities continued to inffluence my concepts of the future. But by the end of the year, in Altamont, a harsh and ugly tide was finding it's strength. I had just turned 12, and our family was back in upstate NY after 18 months in Oregon/California. Apollo 11 had just landed on the moon not a month before, and the success and worldwide TV broadcast of that event had seemed to add to the optimistic utopian feelings yearned for at that time, countering the strife both here at home and in VietNam, streamed daily on those same TVs on the nightly news.

The things I can remember clearly are the local AM radio news reports from that weekend; The NYS thruway clogged and closed, the mass of people decending on the little town, the stormy weather, and the almost miraculous way that all those ingredients managed to avoid even a hint of tragedy - a validation that the ideals of the new generation were possible.

That fall, In Junior High, those new possibilities continued to inffluence my concepts of the future.

But by the end of the year, in Altamont, a harsh and ugly tide was finding it’s strength.

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