By the time Woodstock happened I had been a Kerouac and Beat-influenced folkie since the last half of the 1950s. (Graduated high school in '59.) I never knew what Woodstock was about----until years later (sort of) when my Carol, who is 7 years my junior, hauled me to a Loving Spoonful concert. I accepted it as o.k. because Sebastian was playing an autoharp and a harmonica. Still, the Beats were my mentors----and coffeehouses and caffeine (often laced with brandy) was my drug of choice. I tried downing 300 Heavenly Blue/Pearly Gates Morning Glory seeds once---ground up in a pepper mill and infused into orange juice. One of the places I went that trip was back to the womb. I remember it like it happened today. And the room I was in seemed like a sort of padded cell---but the floor-to-ceiling cushioning material was all female mammaries. (I came out of that singing "Thanks For The Mamaries".) Yep, I can see/feel/taste/fondle 'em now---even as we speak. I decided I preferred reality though---and that was the only "trip" I ever took.

Us Beats were literary. Hippies were numb. I think you could actually pass a test on the differences between those two groups if you gave that answer.

Unlike Martin, who says he looks to the future, we looked to the past for values and inspiration. Doing that set my historical preferences and my attitudes toward the study of American folklore and song---and those persist to this day.

Art Thieme