My Woodstock Story 55 years ago

On day one of the concert (55 years ago today) I was staying in a band crash pad in Commack, Long Island with a bass player friend who said it was where a lot of groups stayed when they were playing in the area or between gigs, (including Nazz, but when I asked Todd Rundgren he said he didn’t remember). My memory was a fireplace full of cigarette butts and lots of mattresses on the floor. There was a steady stream of girls coming and going who ostensibly took care of the players with everything from food and drinks, to weed and whatever. I hate to use the word groupies, but when in Rome…(or Long Island in the 60’s)

A pretty girl who drove a classic MG td soft top, arrived with some food and pot. Her band of choice wasn’t there but for some reason she took a liking to me (I was a guitar player) and said we should drive to Woodstock and catch some music. I agreed. It was raining cats and dogs, and her roof leaked, but I didn’t care and we pressed on. A few hours later we arrived outside Yasgur’s farm, wet and happy. We parked a few miles away, got out of the car, and walked toward the music in the mud. I don’t know what I was hearing, I don’t remember anything but the huge crowd. And the uncomfortable weather (I was spoiled). We left without really experiencing the peace and love (how stupid was that). When we got back to Long Island, she dropped me off, and left. I never saw her, or that car, again, but I got close enough to say I was there, sort of.