Woodstock

About once a month Jean and I visit an Arby’s in Durham to enjoy a  sandwich loaded with beef and I savor their special Arby sauce and their Horsey sauce too, mmmm. On a recent visit I noticed that the young woman who took our order was wearing a Woodstock t-shirt.  I commented, “Woodstock.” She looked up and I said “Your shirt says Woodstock.” She brightened up and smiled and then asked, “Yes, what does that mean to you?”  I thought for a couple of seconds and responded, “Thousands of young people out in a meadow listening to rock music.”  She nodded. When our food was ready she brought it to the counter. I added, “I hated that music. I loved big band music and jazz, even B-bop.”  She was very busy and nodded and I moved on with my wife who was getting diet coke from the machine.

The food was especially good. And last night I thought about Woodstock and how confused I was back in 1969  by the young people and the music and the cultural revolution and what was going on in the world back then and about how so many of my beliefs and values were being questioned.  And then I thought about how confused I am today about the young people and about the political battles and about the America we live in today and I became all the more confused. Like that old Bob Dylan song says, “The times they are a changing.”