It was August 17th, 1969, and they played before an audience of something approaching half a million people, live in a field near the community of White Lake, NY, just off Route 17 through Monticello. Known as Woodstock (a town about 45 miles away) because that’s where it was supposed to be held, neither the last minute change of location, nor the rain that fell much of the weekend, could keep people away from what was to become the best known music festival in history. They were drawn like iron filings to a magnet and that Sunday a different kind of Airplane made a different kind of sound.
It was 1966 (a good year in itself especially if you were a Dodge Charger fan) and two guys, Larry Evoy and Craig Hemming, got together in Toronto, Canada, and formed a pop rock group to be called Edward Bear — the actual name of A. A. Milne’s classic Winnie the Poo, a character who shares his middle name with Smokey the Bear and our moon.
I see today that my daughter, Cass, got some new ink — body art, they call it — and this one reminded me of a song by the all-girl rock group Runaways from the 70s, from 1976 I think, and brought into recent consciousness by the film of the same name from 2010 with Dakota Fanning.
I work with many people, mostly adults, who often behave more like children than the professionals they are supposed to be. Just like so many children they want everything instantly, caught up in the do-it-now moment and the clutch of shiny object syndrome, running from new thing to new thing without ever fully grasping the last.
Willfully, perhaps desperately, clinging to our childhood memories, it is hard for some to accept so many of the well-known fairy tales, children’s stories, and folk songs, are actually deep-held political statements or prurient adult reading cloaked in a red riding cape of innocence. It has always been the way I think.
I’ve always said the 70s were when the real 60s began. In three individual years near the beginning of that decade three unrelated things occurred that would affect me significantly a little later in my life.