Ahhhh .. I am sorry it has been while since I have written anything. I guess that is because I am so busy writing each week for Waterloo Region Record's Nightlife. And I usually blog when I have something to blog about.
Today is a significant day for me. And I did post a little bit about it on Facebook because I seem to have no heat. In fact. It is a Day Three without heat. And then I realized what today was. And that put everything in glorious perspective. I can always layer up. So I did. And then I made myself a potent cup of Tassimo Cafe Creme by adding a dram of St Remy to it. I made myself a full Scottish brekee (sans baked beans) and cleaned my house to the sounds of The Mahones - my fave Celtic punk band. I always wonder why I survived that night. The weather is exactly the same as it is today - howling winds, cold and raining. I think I now know why I am here, and my love of music grows stronger every year...
Happy Anniversary
Oct 3 1970 – it’s been 45 years since that fateful night. I love music and I love my brother Phil. He was a musician in a band and he looked like Alvin Lee from Ten Years After.
I was 15, and had to go and see Woodstock because Lee was showcased in the film that defined a generation. I had no idea Woodstock would define the rest of my life. We lived in an upscale suburb. The only way into town was the Hamilton bus. I stood on Highway #8's shoulder miserable in the teeming rain wearing a navy blue Ingo sweater, jeans, and a God-Awful Hot Pink Raincoat, thinking about my so called life. The damn bus, which was late, roared right past me, splashing me. Throughly pissed off, I jaywalked across the highway. Standing dazed in the middle of the four lanes, I remember two headlights careening towards me…
It is said I was hit by one car, then dragged a different direction by another, because The God-Awful Hot Pink Raincoat caught onto the license plate.
My Dad emailed me this letter and help me fill in the blanks.
“We had just returned from Ottawa to get my passport extended and came off the 401 onto Hwy 8 and saw all the flashing lights of the police and the ambulances. All the traffic was being diverted from Hwy8 to Edgehill Drive. When we got home, you were not there and we then began to really worry. I called the K-W Hospital and they told me the terrible news; your Mum started screaming when I said you were in the accident. The operator at the hospital told me to go and hold her and tell her you were badly injured but that you would be OK. Then we went to see you; couldn't believe it when we saw you, all bruised and your leg in a cast up to your hip---and a smile on your face!!!!”
I had a gash in the side of my head, that was the worst. I broke my pelvis and then I was discovered three weeks later that I also broke my ankle. I took me a long time to recover, from the first time I sat up to my first step, which to me, was absolutely amazing.
By the way... I did see Woodstock four years later. My brother didn’t look that much like Alvin Lee…
Today is a significant day for me. And I did post a little bit about it on Facebook because I seem to have no heat. In fact. It is a Day Three without heat. And then I realized what today was. And that put everything in glorious perspective. I can always layer up. So I did. And then I made myself a potent cup of Tassimo Cafe Creme by adding a dram of St Remy to it. I made myself a full Scottish brekee (sans baked beans) and cleaned my house to the sounds of The Mahones - my fave Celtic punk band. I always wonder why I survived that night. The weather is exactly the same as it is today - howling winds, cold and raining. I think I now know why I am here, and my love of music grows stronger every year...
Happy Anniversary
Oct 3 1970 – it’s been 45 years since that fateful night. I love music and I love my brother Phil. He was a musician in a band and he looked like Alvin Lee from Ten Years After.
I was 15, and had to go and see Woodstock because Lee was showcased in the film that defined a generation. I had no idea Woodstock would define the rest of my life. We lived in an upscale suburb. The only way into town was the Hamilton bus. I stood on Highway #8's shoulder miserable in the teeming rain wearing a navy blue Ingo sweater, jeans, and a God-Awful Hot Pink Raincoat, thinking about my so called life. The damn bus, which was late, roared right past me, splashing me. Throughly pissed off, I jaywalked across the highway. Standing dazed in the middle of the four lanes, I remember two headlights careening towards me…
It is said I was hit by one car, then dragged a different direction by another, because The God-Awful Hot Pink Raincoat caught onto the license plate.
My Dad emailed me this letter and help me fill in the blanks.
“We had just returned from Ottawa to get my passport extended and came off the 401 onto Hwy 8 and saw all the flashing lights of the police and the ambulances. All the traffic was being diverted from Hwy8 to Edgehill Drive. When we got home, you were not there and we then began to really worry. I called the K-W Hospital and they told me the terrible news; your Mum started screaming when I said you were in the accident. The operator at the hospital told me to go and hold her and tell her you were badly injured but that you would be OK. Then we went to see you; couldn't believe it when we saw you, all bruised and your leg in a cast up to your hip---and a smile on your face!!!!”
I had a gash in the side of my head, that was the worst. I broke my pelvis and then I was discovered three weeks later that I also broke my ankle. I took me a long time to recover, from the first time I sat up to my first step, which to me, was absolutely amazing.
By the way... I did see Woodstock four years later. My brother didn’t look that much like Alvin Lee…
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