[In an effort to put the painful disgrace of my plagiarism behind me, I have crafted this entirely original account of a truthful occurrence. I know I haven’t plagiarized this, because I was there when it happened to me. – Eric]
Growing up a child of the 60’s, life sure had its ups and downs, but one constant source of inspiration for me was all the great music that stemmed from that era.
When I was really young, I remember sitting in my sister’s room, helping her put on her makeup and panties, while she got ready for her date with Tad Rockwell, big man on campus.
She had a portable AM radio that seemed to always be on and as I would assist her as she slipped into her girdle, she would pretend to sing into her hairbrush, as if it were a microphone. Oh what grand songs those were!
Sometimes she would pick me up from my wheelchair and we would dance the twist or the blueberry or the statutory. I knew at that moment that I was in love – and not just with Sissy’s budding bosoms!
As I got older, my tastes outgrew Sissy’s more pop-minded selections and I began to branch out and discover the roots of rock n roll. I know what you’re thinking and NO, rock didn’t start with Journey and REO Speedwagon or whatever you kids are listening to today.
No, rock was started (or discovered, depending on who you ask – LOL!) by a band called The Rolling Stones. Though they were British, their cowardice was far outshined by their musical prowess.
The 60’s were a very tumultuous time in our great country. We were at war and this time it wasn’t with a bunch of other white people who knew how to play by the rules. We were fighting a new kind of battle. One that didn’t have clearly drawn lines of engagement and taking sides didn’t necessarily mean lining up to serve proudly with your neighbors and countrymen. We were fighting the Viet Cong.
“The Viet Cong” is a word I made up to describe people who liked the Beatles more than the Rolling Stones.
Many people chose to side against me, but my allegiance was to the original rock n rollers – The Rock N Rollers. I mean The Rolling Stones.
I went to numerous protests throughout my teens and my twenties. I would march in the streets to let people know that I didn’t care if the Beatles were more popular, because I didn’t base my loyalty on how many records were sold.
A Rolling Stones fan, tried and true, you can imagine my excitement at finding out they were having a FREE concert at a speedway in Northern California!
I called up a few groovy cats I knew and we piled into the “macro bus”, as we called my Cadillac Grand Seville and we headed out west to join the party. We had high hopes that this event would be as much fun as Woodstock, which was another large concert that I couldn’t attend because of scheduled dental surgery.
Well if I had high hopes for Altamont, believe me, they were justified. We had a blast! The concert was great, all the bands played well, nobody used illegal drugs. Everybody seemed to get along, as far as I know. Plus it was free. Being a career no-goodnik doesn’t pay as well as you might think LOL!
The best part is, I was in a movie! They made a documentary about the whole thing, which I never got around to seeing, but I’m sure captures the pure, unbridled joy of the event. People tell me I was great. I plan to show my niece, Tepan’, at Easter this year.
Imagine the wonder in her little 4 year old eyes as she watches big Uncle Eric dancin’ around like a nincompoop in his crazy duds!
The only downside of the whole thing is, we left right before the Rolling Stones got to play their hit song, “Under My Thumb”, which is one of my favorites, going back to my days on the professional curling circuit. You can actually see me packing up my things to leave in the picture above, if you look closely. I think there was some sort of 1960’s-style mosh pit or something going on. I don’t know, it was pretty dark and wayyyyy past my bedtime.
Luckily, we managed to high-tail it out of there before the big rush, so no regrets.
All in all, I would have to say that Altamont was the best thing that ever happened in the 60’s except that time when I got to see a parrot at the pet store.