Thursday, July 22, 7:27AM- D-Day has finally arrived (otherwise known as departure day). I awaken from another fitful bout of sleep, groggy and a little grumpy (as usual), but nonetheless ready to face the day. I treat myself to my usual breakfast of two or three hearty bowls of cereal, then shower, dress, and leave for the airport. All tickets are remembered and the day is off to a splendid start. Woodstock ’99, here I come!
8:56AM- My chauffeur and I arrive at O’Hare early after making wonderful time. The early morning seas of traffic seemed to part for this concert-going VIP, yet another good sign.
9:02AM- All jocularity and humor have left me. I find myself staring at the departures board, one slightly abbreviated word in bold letters brashly testing my patience and temper. "Cancled." In the past this four-letter word had only greeted me on my monthly utilities bills, audaciously preceded by "service" and followed by "due to lack of payment." But to show itself at the beginning of my trip? This is an inexcusable offense! I tear my eyes away from the departures board to investigate the cause of this trip-taking travesty. I join the end of the line, patience being tested but hopes for a relaxing and memorable trip still high.
9:16AM- Having moved only seven paces in line and scarcely seeing the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, I feel the last vestiges of my patience slipping from my grasp. I will now react like the rest of my compatriots in society- irrationally and utterly without regard for the feelings and concerns of my fellow man. Airline employees, beware…
9:55AM- Finally having reached the front of the line, my hopes start to percolate yet again. The next person to be attended to is yours truly! This minor misunderstanding is now only moments from being rectified.
9:57AM- Correction- this minor misunderstanding is now only five HOURS from being rectified. Apparently the "best" that can be done is allowing me to get to my destination a full five hours tardy, thus pushing my estimated arrival to Woodstock until midnight or one in the morning. Marvelous. Pitching tents and getting settled on an airforce base among several hundred thousand people in the shadows of darkness should be a wonderfully entertaining challenge.
10:47AM- I hearken for my chauffeur and he takes me for lunch at a reputable little restaurant that specializes in quality Mexican cuisine. The sign says "Taco Bell," but I’m slightly confused by this name. I understand the part about tacos, but what do bells have to do with Mexican cuisine? My chauffeur dryly remarks that it refers to the taste of their meat- akin to licking a bell. I laugh at his heart attempt at humor, but dismiss it due to its obviously ridiculous nature.
10:59AM- I sit down to consume my lunch and rapidly devour all that was purchased. I’m amazed at the quality of the meat. It tastes like finely ground filet mignon. I snort at my chauffeur’s earlier jab and contemplate litigation against his foundless and slanderous remarks.
11:02AM- I find myself running down the hall towards the nearest water closet. I’m racked by a rather sudden and viscious bout of intestinal unrest. The origins of this discomfort are unknown to me, but I reckon it to be something I ate…
1:08PM- After a short recovery period and a quick nap, my chauffeur and I embark on a return voyage to the airport. The possibility of leaving earlier on standby has presented itself to me and my heart livens with the possibility of an early departure.
1:20PM- Finally, the return of some good news to my life. My vacation will now be able to begin an hour earlier than previously feared (yet still four hours later than originally planned). I have passed the tests of being on standby and my valor is being rewarded with an early departure. As I board the plane, my heart soars. My vacation is finally back on track!
1:40PM- The plane pulls away from the terminal even earlier than expected! Rome, NY, here I come!
1:45PM- Poised at the edge of the runway, ready for takeoff, my fellow passengers and I find ourselves sitting in a plane that has apparently gotten cold feet at the prospect of taking off. The pilots try to talk to her and relax her, but she’s unreceptive to their persuasion. Therefore, we wait.
1:50PM- Still waiting.
1:55PM- More of the same.
2:00PM- Ridiculously, still we wait. I marvel at my luck in drawing the overly emotional and irrational plane out of a thousand possible participants.
2:04PM- Apparently the crisis has passed. Tissues were soiled, feelings were hurt, and tears were shed, but the truth and love reunited the warring parties and all ended well with a vigorous hug and a pat on the fanny. Takeoff commences and all in the cabin rejoice in unison with a heartfelt, "hooray!"
4:55PM (Boston time)- After a wonderfully uneventful flight and a tidy little snack (a ham sandwich and Twix bars) we touch down a full ten minutes early. Once again my spirits soar as it seems that fate has smiled on me yet again, somehow wanting me to get to Woodstock on time to record it for all posterity. I exit the plane, get my bag, and begin to wait for my other concert-going companions so we can get on the road to Rome. I’m halfway home!
5:25PM- Still no sign of my pals, now a half-hour late. I start to mentally replay the conversation I had earlier the same day where I briefed my friend about my time of arrival, looking for any possible cause of confusion I may have conveyed. Unfortunately, none are found. I continue my vigil…
6:05PM- Thoughts of strangulation start to take hold of my mind. Then I realize the fault in my lust for revenge- my friends first must show up before I can strangle them. Keeping an eye out for my victims, I continue to wait…
6:30PM- A full hour and a half has passed and still no sign of those who now certainly must perish. I’ve been walking all over this infernal airport lugging my suitcase around (which the airline employee kindly told me weighed in at a robust 31 pounds) for what seems like days now. I’m carefully cultivating a bevy of rather pernicious blisters on my feet and hands, I’m extremely hot and sweaty (it’s 93 degrees out and very humid) and I’m getting extremely angry. But, just when I think that there’s no hope and am about to collapse from exhaustion and frustration, my dimwitted friend appears like a watery oasis in the middle of the hottest desert. At last, I’m saved!
6:40PM- We all pile into our vehicle and I collapse in the backseat, my bones crying out in anguish. I’m now too tired to throttle my fellow passengers, luckily for them. I tersely inquire as to why my pals were an hour and a half late in coming to save me from Boston’s scenic Logan Airport. The answer was definitely acceptable- apparently my friend suffers from sporadic, yet total, hearing loss and also the complete and utter inability to utilize the organ that rests between his ears, i.e. his brain. Cest la vie!
7:20PM- After going down the wrong highway for a good fifteen minutes, yours truly, the out of towner, realizes that we’re going the wrong way and debriefs the rest of the passengers. Once we get going the right way, we find ourselves stuck in the Sumner Tunnel with apparently half of the Boston population. See you on the other side…
7:35PM- Finally through to the other side, we still find ourselves stuck in traffic, but inching ever closer to our destination of Rome, NY.
7:40PM- I have great news: I’ve just become an honorary New Englander. I’m now the proud recipient of an apparently local symbol for "hello." What these drivers do is put their hands out of their cars (or keep them within if they’re being coy) and wave their middle finger at you while shouting something that sounds like "fahck awff!" This sounds strangely close to Latin, but I’m sure this is just the accent getting in the way of a truly heartfelt hello. I really feel at home here with these people. Always so quick to include strangers and so very, very kind…
11:30PM- A wonderfully relaxing car voyage seems to have neared an end as we reach the advertised Woodstock exit. All that remains is to enter the air force base, unpack our things, and get some much needed rest. Shouldn’t be long now…
4:00AM- We’ve finally gotten a parking spot after a four and a half hour wait. This base is huge! Every time you round a corner, you think you’re almost at the end, but as your vision bends around the corner, all you can see is more cars. We unpack the car (me and my one suitcase are ready instantaneously, my companions however take a good twenty to get organized.) We walk through the main gates (another 20 minutes as there are still a thousand people waiting, even at four in the morning) and get our official green Woodstock bracelets!
4:35AM- After walking for a good half-hour, passing tent after tent, we reach a break in the canvas sea and start to pitch our tents.
5:00AM- My tent pitched, my reservoirs of energy tapped, I lay to sleep until morn. Hello, Woodstock!
10:15AM- After noticing that the line for the showers stretches back, 5 people deep, as far as the eye can see, I change my plans. I decide to wash my hair and face in the drinking fountain, along with a hundred other people (original ideas are quickly copied and made property of the masses here). Feeling fresher, I return to my tent to check on my friends.
11:00AM- Finally ready, my friends and I leave for the main airstrip and a day full of musical merriment.
Concert, Day One- Natural increments of time are lost on my as the day passes by in a haze. It’s extremely hot and humid out and very sunny. I realize by midday that I’m going to be suffering from some sunburn tomorrow, but it shouldn’t be too bad. Several times during the day, though, I worry about passing out from the oppressive heat (magnified tenfold by the several hundred thousand people). There are free water stations all over where you can douse yourself and fill up your water bottle and over the course of the day I visit this area at least a dozen times.
The music on this day is great! I start out watching comedian Andy Dick and then move on to see the Godfather of Soul, Mr. James Brown! He gets the crowd going, and then G Love and the Special Sauce take the stage. They’re a funky blues kind of band that kept the excitement going until British danceman Jamiroquai took the stage. Jay Kay and Co. jammed with their unique mix of funk and dance music.
I then went to the other stage and saw Lit play. They were by far the best performance of the day, a pleasant surprise to be sure, and their performance culminated with their guitarist setting fire to his guitar and then smashing it to bits. Then, after much delay, I saw Buckcherry play. They too were great, continuing the high energy that Lit generated. After this, I went back to the other stage and saw rapper DMX perform. Again, a very pleasant surprise as he was really quite good; very adept at getting the crowd involved. I then saw the Philadelphia rap group The Roots play and they were solid as always.
Then came a defining performance by The Offspring. The crowd was now huge and The Offspring’s brand of hard rock really got things moving. That’s when the crowd started throwing their empty plastic bottles at each other and the stage. Imagine several hundred thousand people strong all throwing stuff. To see all this plastic flying out of this endless sea of people was amazing. It was a wonderful sight and the band fed off the energy to complete a stomping set. A couple of other funny moments in this set were the hilarious "intermission" antics and their assault of mock Backstreet Boys with a baseball bat. Quite fun.
To close the night I watched part of Korn’s set, but was unable to get into most of their songs (to give them some credit, though, they really got the crowd to respond to their brand of heavy metal. Imagine that same sea of people from before now moshing and jumping in unison. Pure pandemonium.) Exhausted from tons of exposure to Mister Sunshine (no, not a nickname for me this time) and tapped of all energy, I go back to my tent and fall asleep to the sounds of George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic. Having had quite a day, I recharge for hopefully more of the same tomorrow.
Favorite Day One Performances: Buckcherry and The Offspring
Surprisingly Great Performance of Day One: Lit
With the rain stopped, I meander over to the airstrip and start taking some pictures. It really is a nice (but incredibly huge) site and I aim to photograph it for the annals of posterity. I notice that of the few people wandering around, most are congregated around several overturned garbage cans where 5 or 6 amateurs are banging on them Stomp-style.
Next, I grab some breakfast (for an affordable $10 for a drink and a sandwich) and watch the crews busily cleaning up the sight. They’ve got an army of street sweepers going over the grass and the airstrip itself to concentrate the garbage into piles, and then another truck comes in with a long hose and sucks it all up. Very cool.
Strange sight seen: a man comes running out of the medical tent full bore looking like he’s fleeing from an angry swarm of bees. He then proceeds to take a flying leap forward and does a nosedive face first on the concrete. This guy skids, improbably, a good two feet on the concrete and then comes to a stop. He then starts making snow angels on the ground, further grinding up his arms and legs, shouting about how he can fly and how he "dances with the clouds." The people from the medical tent are now running out towards him and that’s when he starts screaming at the top of his lungs. You can hear this guy’s screams from several hundred feet away as I see people’s heads crane and turn over this way to see what the commotion is all about. Apparently this man is having some sort of a bad trip off acid, just made a little bit worse by cracking his head open and cutting his arms and legs to ribbons. Crazy.
9:45AM- My friends not up and it being too hot to sit in my tent, I head to the 24 hour film festival. It’s inside a huge airplane hangar with a big movie screen at one end. There are no chairs, so everyone sits on the blessedly cold concrete floor. The movie is awful (I think only 5 people are actually watching it) and within 10 minutes I’m asleep.
11:45AM- I wake up feeling cool and refreshed and get to wander again. It’s time to hear some music!
Concert, Day Two- I kick things off by watching the Canadian band The Tragically Hip and am pleasantly surprised. They’re pretty funky and have some nifty little tunes. I then head to the other stage to see my boys, Guster, play! They were awesome, playing half of their upcoming CD and culminating with a hilarious spoof of the Beastie Boys’ classic "Fight for Your Right (To Party)." I then went back to the other stage and caught the end of Kid Rock’s set which was pretty good.
Then, back to the other stage to catch the end of The Bruce Hornsby Group. I take a nap next to a garbage can while listening to them, falling asleep to their mellow and soothing piano-laced songs.
Then comes Everclear. These guys tear the nonexistent roof off the joint and completely kick ass. It’s pure pandemonium and I’m only about 10 rows back. People are slamming into each other, jumping in unison (150,000 strong jumping together is quite a sight) and crowd surfers are everywhere. This dynamite set ends with about 50 lucky people being picked from the crowd and allowed to go on stage and dance/sing with the band. Truly awesome!
Then, back to the other stage to catch Dave Matthews Band. Solid as usual, but disappointing due to its predictability (after seeing him about 8 times I get frustrated by his cookie-cutter sets). Starving, I go and get some food on the other side of the base (a $7 ham and cheese calzone that was still frozen in the middle. At least I get what I pay for, right?) Los Lobos plays some nice dinner music for me, then it’s back to the other stage for the umpteenth time today to catch the end of Alanis Morissette’s set. Not bad, in fact, it’s rather relaxing and I fall asleep next to a row of porta-potties (I know it may sound gross, but no one was using them because they were covered in mud, and they sat in the shade, so shut up!)
I awaken just in time to see Limp Bizkit taking the stage. These guys absolutely rocked and they made a fan of me with their loud, thumping beats and frenzied fan participation (now instead of Everclear’s 150,000 people, imagine 250,000 people jumping and chanting in unison. Another in a long line of amazing sights.) I had always liked what I’d heard of them, but this set brought me in and made me love them. Really great; by far the best performance of the day, maybe the whole weekend, just because I expected so little and got so bloody much.
Then, Rage against the Machine played and they picked up right where Bizkit left off. Zach and the boys sounded great and worked the crowd into a frenzy, culminating their performance by burning an American flag. Needless to say, that split the crowd into two parties regarding acceptance or hatred of said act. I then closed the night by listening to the Chemical Brothers while walking back to my ten. Too tired to go and see Fatboy Slim play at the all night rave, I fall asleep and get ready for the final day of tunes.
Favorite Day Two Performances: Guster, Everclear, and Rage against the Machine
Surprisingly Great Performance of Day Two: Limp Bizkit
10:30AM- After carefully, yet masterfully, harassing them for the past half-hour, my friends finally awaken and begin to pack their things. The game plan is this: pack our stuff and drop it off at the car, then go and enjoy the bands. That way, when we’re done all we have to do is fly out of the parking lot and go home.
11:30AM- After standing over them and repeatedly reminding them to hurry up, my pals are finally done packing. What took me 10 minutes to do takes them an hour. Insane.
11:35AM- After taking a 5 minute break to rest from the "hard work" of packing, we leave for our car.
12:15PM- Two of us have made the arduous journey to the car safely, but somehow the other two have gotten split off from us and are nowhere to be seen. I throw off all of my bags and collapse to the ground. I just lay there marveling at the insane distance just traveled. I can’t believe we walked that far on Thursday night at 5 in the morning. Now that’s concentration and determination for ya’. I lay on the ground, my body soaked in sweat and my arms feeling like tree trunks from carrying my 31lb. suitcase, a tent, and my backpack. I’ve pushed my body a lot this weekend and can’t wait to see how good it will feel to sleep on something other than concrete or lumpy earth. I wonder where the other two from our party are? They should be here soon…
1:15PM- Exactly an hour after we arrived, the other two members of our group decide to join us. They apparently stopped several more times than us, then decided to go to the wrong gate clear on the other side of the park. Oops. As we sit and listen to the radio, taking a break from the heat, we hear that after 6PM tonight, estimates are that it will take 19-21 HOURS just to leave the PARKING LOT! Glances of terror are exchanged by all and you can see the hesitatn light bulbs pop up over everyone’s head. The thought being on everyone’s mind, I merely verbalize the audacious notion. "Do you guys want to leave now?" More glances exchanged by the other 3, trying to see if I’m playing a trick on them or not. Then, all at once, an overwhelming, "YES!"
1:20PM- The decision made to flee, we pile in the car and get going. It’s a short trip as we instantly hit a line of cars, its passengers apparently terrified by the same prospect we were- having to spend close to 24 hours in a car in a parking lot and not moving! Good news is that a local NY radio station is playing Woodstock coverage live without many interruptions, so we’ll still get to hear all of the bands that we wanted to! Luck shines on us again…
2:20PM- Exactly one hour after we started our homeward exodus, we’ve moved up exactly one car length ( I swear to you that this is true. I wouldn’t make something so cruel and horribly trying up.)
3:30PM- A little over one more hour has passed and we’ve moved a little over one more car length up (again, I kid you not. Some things are just too sadistic to joke about. Things like cancer, death, and traffic.)
4:00PM- In one half-hour we have now moved about 2 miles where as in 2 hours we could barely move 2 car lengths. We have now finally cleared the base and are on our way to the highway and home.
Concert, Day Three- The radio was my savior today, playing all the bands I wanted to hear, and then some, uncut and in the comfort of an air-conditioned (and now moving) Ford Explorer. I started out listening to Mike Ness, former front man for Social Distortion, and he was rather good. His country sound fused with rock was interesting. Then we listened to Brian Setzer and his orchestra who also were much better than I thought they’d be. Next up was Everlast who really was the first bad act I’d heard all weekend. He sounded like he’d been chain-smoking 6 packs of unfiltered Marlboros a day for the past 60 years. Then came Rusted Root who were wonderful. They carefully balanced their old and new material and packed in their customary concert rock-outs. Then came Our Lady Peace, the crafty Canucks, and again I liked what I heard. Next up was Jewel, then Godsmack, Creed, and Megadeth. Again, all four were much better than I expected and I really was jamming in the backseat. The night ended with the Red Hot Chili Peppers who were just phenomenal. They played a lot of new stuff and a lot of their old classics (plus a fun cover of Hendrix’s "Fire" when people started lighting the concert grounds afire) in a very long set. A perfect way to close the day and also my wonderful Woodstock experience. Toodle-oo!
Favorite Day Three Performances: Rusted Root and the Red Hot Chili Peppers
Surprisingly Great Performances of Day Three: Brian Setzer, Creed, and Godsmack
This whole experience of mine reminded me of the Joad family in The Grapes of Wrath. The camping grounds looked just like those in the movie: long dirt roads chock full of rocks, lights strung on stripped tree trunks, very desolate and strange terrain. The look on people’s faces that first night were akin to those in the film: covered with confusion, trepidation, and exhaustion. People were driven off their land by flooding and there was a maddening amount of dust flying around, just as in the story.
The days here were extremely long, hot, and humid, but also equally enjoyable. It seemed like for all of the discomfort we endured, it made the music sound that much better. The sweet aroma of pot endlessly permeated the hot air, as did this year’s unofficial slogan of "show your tits!" Shade was as hard to find at Griffis Air Force Base as were tops on the festival’s females. I saw so many breasts this weekend (and unfortunately my fair share of phalli) that I was amazed at how quickly I became desensitized to it. It’s just like they say, "too much of anything gets old after a while," but I NEVER thought I’d say it about this…
Food prices were ridiculous ($5 for a plain hamburger, $4 for a bottle of water or soda, etc.) as were T-shirt/souvenir prices (at least $28 for a T-shirt, $12 for a poster, $6 for a PIN!), but one just learned to eat and drink just enough to avoid extreme exhaustion and collapse.
The washrooms were utterly revolting and you quickly learned to go only if completely necessary, i.e. urine was flowing out your ears.
The shower situation was ridiculous as there was only one bank of them for 250,000 people and it ran cold water, but one quickly learned to bathe only the vital areas in the drinking fountains.
So all of these inconveniences were there and ever present, but so what? The wonderful music overpowered the minor negative aspects of the weekend.
Surprisingly there were almost no corporate logos to be seen which lent to the retro feel and showed the importance of the music. Besides, who really cares if Coke is paying millions of dollars to hold the concert? Not I, and not anyone I know.
Another surprise was that no uniformed police were visible over the whole weekend (until, that is, Sunday night’s rioting and arson, things which were anomalous to the overall peaceful weekend), just lots of volunteer security who were extremely kind and considerate (they doused us with hoses, water guns, and water balloons).
This weekend was a learning experience, one full of surprises, and one that tested your ability to quickly adapt to unfamiliar and sometimes uncomfortable situations. It was a weekend that made you appreciate simple things like a flat, soft surface to lay on, cold beverages to drink, air-conditioning, clean bathrooms with toilet paper, and most of all, showers. It taught me that there are nice, kind people out there, one just has to be willing to search for them. It taught me about the wonderful uniting power of music and how it transcends gender, age, race, religion, etc. It taught me that one’s head will swell from a sunburned scalp and excessive exposure to extreme heat. But more importantly, this was a weekend about music- great music that made for a great weekend.