Description
We hung out on the park side, drinking cold Bud in cardboard containers on those hot summer nights. The passing Coney Island Avenue buses were plastered with ads promising “3 days of peace and music.” Rock was our passion; we played it loud and constant driving our befuddlle parents, who never understood nothinng crazy. So with four friends, I sent for tickets so we could spend the weekend in bucolic and serene Woodstock away from the steamy Brooklyn sidewalks. Because we all had summer jobs and...

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