Three Days In Woodstock


sorryless

Downtown Woodstock

Washington Post journalist Alexandra Petri once referred to Woodstock as the natural progression of all that steam of a nation’s restless youth. I would like to say I was wrestling with the thought as I turned onto Rt. 375 and peddled the last remaining grains of sand from a four hour car ride. But truth be told, I just wanted to get to my Airbnb and hug my lit chick bestie, and then bend elbows to a couple frosty ones at a local watering hole.

That’s when the cosmos took a shine to me, tossing me a precious gem with which to spoil on for the space between. Petri’s name came up in a discussion that was taking place on the radio show I’d tuned in to, and before long they were culling a particular line Petri had fostered out of long lost places. It made the perfect amount of sense…

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3 thoughts on “Three Days In Woodstock

  1. Thank you so much for re-blogging this post! It was a very special and most memorable time and for you to put this out there means so much to me.
    Peace and love to you

    Like

    1. I am just glad that you wrote it, it is an excellent story. When I find stories that are such a good read I just have to reblog them so that others may get a chance to reminisce and or learn from them. As far as reblogging it, you are quite welcome.

      Liked by 1 person

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