THE YUPPIE THAT KILLED WOODSTOCK

We were going to change the world. We were gonna put the mistakes our elders made into the wastebin of history. But we didn’t. Our kids weren’t going to go through those World Wars, Korean, Russian, Chinese blues. Nope, not our kids. Hell no, we went on tour again and gave ’em Vietnam. Those not drafted reinvented Capitalism. One Wall Street crash wasn’t enough. It was just the warm-up for our versions. And though the capitalists and the banks recovered, some of the symptoms are still seen and felt in almost every small to medium to huge city in America. Hell, you can see it all over the world. World War Two had it’s bread lines, soup kitchens and hobo camps. The lucky outcast few had scrap lumber enough to have at least 3 walls and a roof. Then there were tents or tarps, intact and thick enough to keep the rains and snow out. Then there was cardboard, good enough for a few hours to a day’s worth of cover. Of course the law and order didn’t want the high and mighty to have their view disturbed. In came the night sticks, billy clubs boys to clear that shit out. Bull dozers finished the job by making whatever scant bits of joy or hope vanish. And for some, there was the ground beneath their back and the skies above their face. Manageable if you were far enough below the Mason/Dixon line but in the North, in the North…….

So the banks pretty much rebounded and our government watchdogs vowed it wouldn’t happen again. Until it did. All the troops coming home were a strain on the system in many ways. Trying to point a finger at the problem here at home would have taken more than two hands.The GI Bill of Rights struggled to be the safety net it was intended to be. Schooling, home loans, medical care, job training, etc. meant well but let’s face it, the cracks in the system were chasms. Once again, we had Woodstock. We were gonna change the world. We almost did. Actually, we did. In Europe, in Asia, in South America, even in Africa people were loving Rock n’ Roll. 13 year olds began wearing their hair longer and I do mean longer. Soon it was older teens and young adults enjoying what their hair signified. We listened to advice but seldom acted on our mothers or father’s beliefs. This alone caused wars in homes across America, painful, tearful even violent in some cases but the conversation had begun. Young ladies and teen girls were no longer waiting for prince charming and the white picket fence. Sex felt good. You could live out of a VW bus if you wanted. Babies, oh the babies! They labeled us the baby boomers. Women were no longer so brutalized for having a child out of wedlock. If the grandparents nee parents, disowned the mother and child so be it. The child’s parents may have a more difficult road ahead but grandparents lived with the guilt of maybe having a namesake out there in world, maybe struggling, maybe in danger. But the painful transition had begun. I’m sad to say that it was handled much better in the European countries outside of Great Britain. The biggest challenge was here at home. It cost three deaths at Kent State University. It caused riots all across the country. It cost a president a humiliating exit from office and the next president was pilloried for pardoning him though history has shown that Gerald Ford probably applied salve to some of the deep wounds dividing us and allowing the country to begin to move on.

Unfortunately the movement begun at Woodstock, San Francisco and the other similar festivals that wanted peace, love and music died an embarrassing crucifixion. Even more embarrassing because we had held the power and hope on the razor’s edge. So sad because the massive crowds were rarely seen, certainly not for music as the star attraction. A papal coronation perhaps, a royal birth, the dearh of a popular monarch or leader or movie star.. Only once had we seen the skyline quiver and the thunder of expectation cause the earth to shiver. It was when the hopes of so many were being fulfilled. It was the Beatles. The music was heavenly and the lyrics were an acceptable substitute for Bible verse or government charter.. Unfortunate because the summers (plural) of love died quite badly? At Altamont. When a Hell’s Angel stabbed an over enthusiastic partyer. He had knocked over a cycle and was stabbed for his offense. The Angel, Sonny Barger, serves time for that offense. The flower children tried to see the free love movement continue but to stay in the forefront of American life you need funding and most of the attempted moves towards organic life were pushed to the fringes. Wallstreet wasn’t going to back off-the-grid living or attempts at non gasoline or diesel vehicles . The attempts at nearly free energy from fusion reactors couldn’t be allowed to live and so it went. And so it goes now. We had tried to keep living on sex, drugs and roch n’ roll. Hell, we even had our own chemistry phd to help us on our trip. The downside of that short lived attempted movement towards a bizarre mix of overseers melding socialism, communism and Capitalism. We’ve all seen where that ended. Even worse, some of the byproducts of the movement were horrific. If you still have your 8-tracks, cassettes, albums, 45’s , or CDs listen to the Rockers’ ‘Steppenwolfe’s “The Pusher”. Sadly many of us did not settle for a little bit of weed after a day’s work. Even more sadly the government came down with a sledgehammer on the little clan of reefer hippies. Criminal sentences were horrendous for a long haired, hippie type, commie, fag, junkies caught with two joints in Southern Counties where a 5th of Jack Daniel’s a night was the general way of life. But worse was that in some cases Marijuana led to higher level drugs supplied by less laid-back men and women. I can’t tell you my hands are clean. I’ve rarely met a drug I didn’t like. When I needed a supplemental income I was willing to supply friends and family with their favorite course of alternative reality. Now that my organs are failing and pot no longer helps I’ve had to go the route of legally, pharmacy dispensed meds. The new method of delivery is often brutal, firearm accompanied, lethally laced, product supply. The current rate of death among drug users has become unimaginable in the era of Woodstock. We never could have foreseen the tragic toll drugs and free love would take. The capitalists won.

Alas, free love also died a horrible death. Free love gave some of my friends children. Free love gave some of my friends AIDS, syphilis, gonorrhea, chlamydia, lice, etc. I myself was lucky. Through fifty years of sex I only wore a prophylactic once. I’m proud to say I shredded that fella and never wore one again. Yes, I was a beast. But in all my years the only female I’ve EVER struck was my big sister when I was 4. I wish I could say my generation learned from our parents, that the back of a hand, the belt, a strap or worse means are not a way to discipline a child or solve a marital disagreement. Women don’t get a pass here I’m afraid. I’ve seen women destroy men. Romantically, financially, physically or just through years of constant nagging, bitching or ragging they just wear them down to that lump of clay their God is said to have started with. But I hate to admit that far and away men have done and are doing the lion’s share of damage. I’ve seen far too many abandoned women struggling to raise children with no financial support, condemned to be that demeaning term of welfare mother. Leaving behind sons with no man to teach them right from wrong, honesty , honor, courage, in short what it should mean to be a man. Yet another sad defeat for the Woodstock generation and beyond. But I guess I should get to the long past due point.

While some of us are still hippies, fraks, pot heads, pick your term. I’m afraid others went in a diametrically opposed way. There were yuppies that wanted to work within the system, and some did. But to my mind the most disappointing and dangerous outgrowth were the yuppies. Young upwardly mobile people. No 9-5 in a warehouse or some other back-breaking job that was good money but ya know, not BIG money. Some of our brothers and sisters had parents who could or would, at the cost of their own end of days comfort, put them through law school or some financial field from where the system could be gamed. Stockbrokers come to mind. The damage done is immeasurable. Lives ruined, suicides, homelessness and a feeling of abject failure that should not have been borne by the victims of this world of whirlwind dealing. But also creeping along the bottom were real-estate agents. Not all, to be sure, as should be noted for the above mentioned class as well. But if you drag forward in time to the housing bubble of the eighties that left many holding mortgages they could never hope to repay. Once again, the evictions, the bankruptcies, the need for multi-generational living. I’m living that now and as much as I love watching a grandchild grow it’s no job for a couple pushing 70. The gulf between the haves and have not has never been wider in the world. When 1% of the American population control 90% of the wealth it’s clear the system was and remains badly broken. I grudge no man or woman what they earn as long as they remember the men and women who earned it for them. Do you remember the golden parachutes and performance bonuses given to those who drove companies into the ground. This is what Barack Obama inherited from W Bush. George didn’t deliberately do it but by his 2nd term the best and brightest had left (or fled). Obama came to office, bailed out what were deemed financially strategic institutions and turned it around in time for Donnie Chump to take office AND credit for Obama’s humming along financial wellbeing. Think back to the Obama bailouts and the screams for blood when it was found recipients lined their pockets and slithered off towards Babylon. Who attacked the Obama administration every step of the way for two terms? That’s right, that elevator riding ‘wascally wabbit Donnie Chump. He immediately turned vulgar and violent, calling on supporters to hate the press, the administration, the FBI, CIA, oh pick an acronym. He surrounded himself with what he thought were loyalists, men, women and family without the slightest whiff of governmental knowledge. The guardrails for banking, environments, labor law, public safety nets and more were removed as soon as possible. Lady Liberty’s flame began to peter out. Then came the truly unforgettable sin. The treasonous bastard, and I use both terms deliberately, sought to set himself upon high, a dictator for life. He started twisting minds with lies that the damaged and less knowledgeable accepted on faith. He was the president, why would he lie? Why indeed? Even without the violence, his meeting with poor, blind Madame Justice was ensured by what was about to transpire on the Capitol floor. His cronies were about to swear to lies. Over 100 congressmen and women signed on to a statement swearing the election had been tainted. Not one of them has been charged with false swearing or even been brought before an ethics committee. The razor thin majority the Republicans gained in the 2022 house race made sure the wheels would not grind any of those down. And so it goes. 216 House Republicans bent knee and swore fealty to Donnie. Time and history have a way of dealing with cowards. What a sad legacy to leave for your time spent in congress? But to Donnie it was easy. Just don’t leave. Just stay el presidentie for life. Back to Woodstock.

While millions of us were trying get chicks with music, weed, log hair and bell bottoms Donnie took a different route. He had been saved from Vietnam by daddies money and a VERY friendly MD. Flat feet. Really? Really!?!? He proceeded to squander the millions he inherited as well as monies intended for other family members. Don’t believe me? Ask Mary Trump. His father, a fairly vocal bigot was quickly surpassed by his weenie of a son. The horrific example of the Central Park attack is mellow compared to the bile he drivels now. Back then he may as well have said “Hang the niggers”. He took out a full page letter to the editors calling for just that in very slightly couched terms. An apology when the truth was found? You’re kidding right? Real men don’t apologize quoth that master of truth, justice and the American way. So now he has to play footsie with the banks. Loans to build his vision for the Manhattan skyline. He’s about be losing in the neighborhood of 500 million for his footsie with those banks too foolish not to lock the doors and bar the windows. The people who built that vision, only to be stiffed by Donnie, are legion. I think I recall at least three bankruptcies but honestly, it reached a point when I just didn’t give a shit. So Donnie rides the elevator, finds enough disenfranchised voters in the right states and lo and behold, King Donnie. It pains me to admit one of those States was mine. The next term is a matter of public knowledge. Ask Fox News, he was awesome. To end things he let the plague in the door and told his followers to ignore it and worse. There’s no way to tally the deaths caused by his lies and withheld information but 30 million or so still thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread and voted that way. Long live the king. Oops! Oh yeah, there were more of us this time. Now what does a defrocked high priest do? Why declare fraud of course. Over 60 judges didn’t see it that way. Trick the electoral count. Hmm, that’s a tough one. Try to bully the Vice President, now dismissed by most and scorned by Donnie’s droogies. If you need info on the term ‘droogie see the film “A Clockwork Orange”.Not enough, Pence might cave, what to do? Invite ALL the droogies the day of the count. Rev ’em up and point them up the hill. It was a mixture never seen before. F-troop, the Devil’s brigade and the Purple Hat clan. Donnie was gonna swoop in to be declared rightful king of Scotland, sorry wrong movie. The House members ran for their lives, Mike Pence barely missed being lynched and Donnie? Well Donnie’s secret service detail did their duty and possibly kept Trump from a visit to a shop specializing in orange jump suits. I believe one day he will finally meet those fine tailors but it’s dragging out as Chump hoped. So here we are, February 24th, 2024. Grinding towards an election Chump filed for way back when, hoping for these delays. The nation is bitterly divided, the poor may soon have a chance to better their children’s lives. Because President Biden’s passing bills that do what he ran on doing to be President. On, building from the bottom up and the middle out. They may get that chance yet. But for now, that tired old yuppie, Donnie Chump, has killed Woodstock. He’s done his best to drive a stake through the spirit of Woodstock. But ya know what, he can’t kill the music.As long as the music lives the spirit lives.

Keep trying Donnie, you keep right on trying. You can’t kill the music mother…..r. And worse for you. It’s coming back around and you’re no longer relevant. Your supposed empire is being divied up for people you’ve abused over the years and paying the piper for dancing around that silly little thing…hmm,, what was it? Oh yeah the LAW dumbass. There will never be another Woodstock. There will be many, many music festivals but not a Woodstock. There was no internet, no Ticketron, no prefab slap it together, tear it down and move on. Is there another Max Yasgur out there?.For every pissed off native of the town there were two who helped, with first aid, what food they had because there were certainly no deliveries except by air. The turnpike was backed up for 15 miles. It’ll never happen again, the new facsimiles are pasteurized, homogenized knock offs. Great music, great atmosphere but eh, not Woodstock. So brothers and sisters, our children, our grandchildren…as long as the music lives, Woodstock lives somewhere, ethereal, unblemished by what Donnie Chump spawned. Because while we were rocking they were already trying to figure a way to profit from the fest. Woodstock’s producers probably were bankrupted by the bath they took. Maybe may four out of ten attendees bought tickets. The albums and film recouped some of the loss but wow, all they got for their investment was a thousands strong wave of genuine gratitude from the fans. A place in history that still shines half a century later.

So fuck you Chump. You can stab it with your steely knives but you just can’t kill the beast. You’ve got the insurrectionists choir. We have Woodstock hippies. Now THAT’S the art of the deal. Movie and story on PBS or an NPR station somewhere near you. Can’t kill the Music!