I was just watching Almost Famous, and as always I felt that incurable itch, that unsatiable thirst for something else. I was born in the wrong time. I should have been born 37 years before I actually was. Then, I would have been 18 during the summer of love, and could have gone to Woodstock, and could've lived when music was good, and it was all
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Remember, that Woodstock experience was aided by psychotropics: arguably, you could have your own private Woodstock, you know.
Not something I advise.
Where is today's Woodstock?
Its equivalent. Or eclipse.
That's your quest.
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