My wife and I caught a little bit of the movie “Woodstock” the other night. The nostalgia was almost enough to make me cry. (Not very hard these days.)
Watching the cats, freaks and hippies getting stoned, slogging through the mud, having sex in the bushes, closing the New York throughway and generally sticking it to the man now looks a little alien.
The country was divided along generational lines. Many of the elders called Woodstock rotten, illegal and even immoral. They hated the music. They hated the message. There was a lot of hate.
Here’s the thing: Woodstock was not MEANT for them. It was OURS.
This is no overnight epiphany, but I have come to accept that because something is not meant for you does not make it bad. Never heard of that celebrity? Not meant for you. Never watched that Netflix series that you can’t even pronounce? Not meant for you. Don’t like that girl’s green hair? Not meant for you.
I still have a boatload of stuff that IS meant for me. So I have resolved to stop getting bugged about things clearly not meant for me and revel in what I love.
Thinking about Woodstock with new perspective brought it closer and reminded me of the hook in the song “Turn It Around” by Lucius. “. . . looking through the wrong end of the telescope. Turn It around.! Turn it around!”
The band Lucius just happen to be playing in Louisville Saturday night. I love them. You don’t like them? Maybe not meant for you.