Summer kicked off for us with what we called our "staycation", which just means we house-sat for some friends who live a couple of cities south of us, and treated it like a vacay. Cheap, easy, and surprisingly refreshing. It was a great way for the hubs and I to connect after our stressful semesters.
During our staycation, I also continued my journey to learn about famous summer music festivals of the late 1960s. This is the hubs' mission for me: that I be educated in the ways of classic rock n' roll to a level I never thought possible. So, I finally saw the Woodstock documentary.
And, let me tell you, I surprised myself by how patiently I sat and watched. The music was pretty cool. My favorite acts were Richie Havens opening, Crosby Stills and Nash being pitch-perfect at they're second show together, Sly and the Family rocking the party, and Santana (who I didn't recognize until he started playing his guitar, and I was like, oh THAT Santana?!). The continuous flow of naked teenagers talking about freedom and peace did, however, make me throw up in my mouth a little. I have enough of a cynical nature for that.
Still, it was interesting to see more of this famous summer music festival that turned into a history-making event that could never be recreated. It made me want to listen to more Jimi Hendrix this summer, and go camping. But no skinny dipping. Probably.
