Peace, Love and Woodstock

The hippies are still there. According to the locals, they always have been.
As far back as the 1920’s, artist and musician types would secretly meet in the nearby forest, throw off their clothes and dance around a gigantic fire. Amongst other things. I submit that if they had left their clothes on, a fire would have been unnecessary, saving precious firewood. But, that’s just the practical side of me.

Just outside of Woodstock, the Bearsville Theater rests among the trees. A meandering stream flits by, whispering secrets of flower children, Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan.

However, the whispering stream might have been my imagination fueled by ancient pot that still lingers in the air. No one knows for sure. It’s a real bummer, man.

Two beautiful wooden staircases in the lobby caught my eye. I asked a runner (a person who takes you to the hotel, shopping, etc) if one of the staircases was the ‘up’ and one was the ‘down’. Then I laughed at my obvious wit. The runner, however, just stared blankly back at me.

As we waited to see if our runner would be the one with the breathalyzer installed in her car or the one with two dogs who would ride along ‘just for fun’ with us, I checked out the rest of the theater.
And said a little prayer for our safety.

We were eventually paired up with the ‘breathalyzer’ runner who turned out to be a very lovely girl. Although she had to tend to her breathalyzer every ten minutes during the drive. It was a bit unsettling…but at least we knew she was sober. Woodstock, thank you for showing us a very unique time like only you could.