Comments on: Woodstock, Again… http://valingstoneways.com/blog/2009/08/14/woodstock-again/ Ramblings about Politics, Economics, and Writing Fri, 10 Sep 2010 22:55:15 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.6.2 By: Administrator http://valingstoneways.com/blog/2009/08/14/woodstock-again/#comment-67 Administrator Wed, 26 Aug 2009 02:37:28 +0000 http://valingstoneways.com/blog/?p=66#comment-67 I was prissy too. Still am. Then again, I probably would have yelled at the tripping hippies to get down, too. I was prissy too. Still am. Then again, I probably would have yelled at the tripping hippies to get down, too.

]]> By: Peyton Moss http://valingstoneways.com/blog/2009/08/14/woodstock-again/#comment-66 Peyton Moss Tue, 25 Aug 2009 18:46:58 +0000 http://valingstoneways.com/blog/?p=66#comment-66 Funny, I had much the same reaction -- and I was there: I'm one of the very few teenagers who went to Woodstock with his mom. When I was seventeen, I'm afraid I was a bit prissy, and the mud was just overwhelming (to the point that it even negated the adolescent tropism for naked hippie chicks. At night, tripping hippies would climb the light towers for a better view. Chip Monck, one of the Digger, was the emcee, as it were, and his giant, echoey voice would come out of these giant speakers, the lights from the other towers would zero in on the culprit, and all 400,000 concert-goers would start yelling: "Get DOWN!! Get DOWN!!" I can't imagine what that must have been like with a hit or two of Owsley burbling your brain, but to me, it was as close to Nuremberg and "Sieg HEIL" as I ever want to get. And the latter-day me-toos are just object lessons in hippy-gone-mainstream, looking for the main chance. I share your distaste for them (To me the epitome was Jerry Rubin, former Yippie-turned-network-partier. Scuse me while I kiss this guy. PHM Funny, I had much the same reaction — and I was there: I’m one of the very few teenagers who went to Woodstock with his mom. When I was seventeen, I’m afraid I was a bit prissy, and the mud was just overwhelming (to the point that it even negated the adolescent tropism for naked hippie chicks.

At night, tripping hippies would climb the light towers for a better view. Chip Monck, one of the Digger, was the emcee, as it were, and his giant, echoey voice would come out of these giant speakers, the lights from the other towers would zero in on the culprit, and all 400,000 concert-goers would start yelling: “Get DOWN!! Get DOWN!!” I can’t imagine what that must have been like with a hit or two of Owsley burbling your brain, but to me, it was as close to Nuremberg and “Sieg HEIL” as I ever want to get.

And the latter-day me-toos are just object lessons in hippy-gone-mainstream, looking for the main chance. I share your distaste for them (To me the epitome was Jerry Rubin, former Yippie-turned-network-partier.

Scuse me while I kiss this guy.

PHM

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