I was 19 and living in New York state when Woodstock was happening, only a couple of hours away — but I missed Janis, Jimi, Sly, the Who, Arlo, Country Joe, the entire spectacle.
However, I didn’t miss James Taylor, who did a show last Friday night at the Bethel Woods Center for the Arts, close to the holy site of the original festival.
Taylor is 76 — whoa! — but he’s still in fine voice and seemingly in good health. There were about 15,000 of us baby boomers singing along with him.
He even sang a soft acoustic version of “Woodstock,” written by Joni Mitchell. It became a hit for Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, who were at the festival. Joni, ironically, didn’t make it there; her agent told her she needed to stay in New York City to appear on “The Dick Cavett Show” the following Monday.
This made me feel a little better — just a little — that I didn’t make it to Woodstock either. My excuse? I had a summertime job at a Barker’s store, in the toys department. Through the years some of my friends have mocked me for missing Woodstock “to stock toys onto shelves.” My reply: “I did it for the children. I didn’t want to abandon them.” (Right).
Who knew how big that festival would be? Nobody! But still, but still…My wife has long told me I suffer from Woodstockitis or Fear of Missing Out (FOMO).
I did go to the 25th anniversary of the festival in 1994 in Saugerties, N.Y., which drew at least 350,000. Let’s face it — a second dish of ice cream. Some of the bands — Nine Inch Nails, etc. — I’d never heard of. Midway through the weekend I convinced my friend Jim to drive us to Bethel, to Yasgur’s farm, where an alternate 25th anniversary celebration was happening, despite a lack of permits. Undaunted, about 10,000 folks showed up. We parked a couple of miles away in a pasture and walked in, like the 400,000 did in 1969. And shortly after we got there — it started to rain! We were dancin’ in the rain! Shades of ‘69! And Melanie performed! I would have stayed there overnight but Jim, who, damn him, was at the original festival, wanted to head home.
And now, in 2024, at age 74, I had made it “back to the garden.” My wife took that photo of me beside the historical marker.
Inevitably, Woodstock has gone commercial. The Performing Arts Center is a great money-maker, as is an adjacent museum, where for $20 ($18 for seniors) you can watch highlights of the festival and buy all sorts of Woodstock memorabilia — T-shirts, framed photos, key chains, buttons, etc., etc. My wife urged me to stock up but I declined. (“I wasn’t there!”)
It was a long, long walk, much of it uphill, from the parking lots to the concert stage. But as we drew closer, we heard that velvety iconic voice. He was singing “Something in the Way She Moves.”
After we settled in and the song was over he told us about singing that little number for George Harrison and Paul McCartney during his audition for an Apple Records contract. George liked it so much that he used the song’s title as the opening line for his own song, “Something.”
The concert was a lovefest. Between songs somebody would shout out, “I love you!” and Taylor would softly reply, “I love you too.” When he sang “How Sweet it Is (To Be Loved by You”), it was his message to the audience.
And he joked about his age (we could relate). “As you get older, you have difficulty moving a stool,” he said while he tugged at his resting place. When he took his outer shirt off — and people cheered that — he joked, “Later, I’ll take my teeth out!”
Of course he did all of his big hits: “Sweet Baby James,” “Carolina in My Mind,” “Mexico,” “Your Smiling Face,” “Shower the People,” “You’ve Got a Friend,” “Fire and Rain.” He had to. But it’s clear he still enjoys doing them.
As we made our way back to the parking lot (it seemed longer on the way back) I noticed the gray-haired brigade around me — some using canes or walking sticks, many walking slowly and stiffly — but with a bounce in their steps.
Rock on, Woodstock Nation!
Love it. Nice piece. I have my memories of James Taylor, seeing him multiple times, and Taylor with Carole King. Thanks, Randy, ole' buddy.
The “original” 1969 Woodstock festival was supposed to be three days with separate tickets and admission for each day. My new wife and I (only married one month) had tickets for Day 2. Alas, couldn’t get there. My regret: tossing those tickets.