WAS WOODSTOCK HIPPIE HEAVEN OR A BIG, SMELLY, PROFITABLE MESS?

THIS WEEKEND is the 40th anniversary of Woodstock which, of course,
has everybody in a tizzy.

There's been a million articles, countless commemorative CDs and about
a dozen books released this year marking the anniversary of history's
most legendary four-day concert, attended by half a million people, or
a million people, or 200,000, depending on whose version you believe
(I didn't count). But everyone seems to agree it happened on a farm in
upstate New York and there was live, non-polka music.

Of course, Woodstock has been billed as one of rock music's defining
moments, as well as one of the last great pop culture signposts of the
'60s, until Altamont, the Beatles and Ali MacGraw's acting in "Love
Story" ruined everything.

The Hard Questions

Don't mind me. I began going to concerts during the decade in which
greed was good and bands dressed like Loverboy. But, really, was
Woodstock that great? Allow me to examine this with some of you people
who say they remember Woodstock.

Now, of course I wasn't there. I turned 2 on the second day of
Woodstock and, frankly, was too whacked out on acid to find the road
leading to the farm. But I've seen the movie and heard all about it:
Jimi Hendrix and the "Star-Spangled Banner," Richie Havens, Carlos
Santana, Sly Stone, Country Joe leading antiwar cheers, The Who
starting a 25-song set at 4 a.m., etc.

By Advertisement all accounts from the 113 million people claiming to
be there, it was a great experience. But I can't help but wonder: Was
it really? How do you know?

Foggy Memories

For one thing, just like all teenagers since then, everyone was on
drugs. Now, from what people tell me about drugs (wink turns to
violent, spasmodic twitch), folks don't remember a whole lot after
doing drugs for four days. Plus, if you were there and claim to
remember it, you happen to be pretty old. So there's really no
trusting your memory. If you recall, there's no trusting anyone over
30. Which kind of kills any credibility I have, but I digress. For the
purpose of this column, let's say I'm a 19-year-old. A really
good-looking 19-year-old.

Didn't you people all throw your arms and cheer when The Who's Roger
Daltry sang about how he wanted to die before he got old? He didn't.
Now he's an old guy, charging you $119 to see him, Pete Townshend and
a bunch of guys you've never heard of come around every couple years
to sing how they still want to die before they get old.

I'm not saying people that age should be dead, because then I wouldn't
have free baby-sitting. I'm just asking if Woodstock was really that
great. Because, to me, it looked pretty awful.

So many glowing testimonials come from people who played Woodstock.
Which makes sense, because they were on stage instead of out mingling
with the smelly masses. It poured rain and mud was everywhere. Parking
was miles away. There were no bathrooms. Joey Kramer of Aerosmith, who
was there as a drug-crazed youth, described a giant puddle that
functioned as both a swimming pond and an outhouse for many, many
hippies. Sounds awesome. Peace, love and "... hey, what's that thing
stuck in your hair?

Even if there were "only" 200,000 people, how many could actually see
the stage? Was there any food? Did they have wireless Internet
hookups? What was the cell phone reception like out there?

Sure, the entertainment sounds great. But, then again, they let Sha Na
Na play 10 songs.

Was it so groundbreaking musically? OK, Country Joe looked pretty
great and I would give one of my ears to be in the same pasture as a
Sly and the Family Stone reunion. But most of the great performances
we hear about came from artists who'd already broke big. Now if you
told me you saw Hendrix two years earlier in Monterey, I would be impressed.

And what has all that peace and love morphed into? A giant ironic ball
of cash, made by people trying to profit as much as possible of the
legacy of Woodstock.

Then again, nobody was dressed like Loverboy.

Maybe it does sound kind of fun "... for 19-year-olds. And if people
would stop jamming it down everybody's throat for a buck. I assume
that wasn't the point back then.