The mother of a college friend of mine recalls going to the market that weekend in Goshen, New York, and being surprised to find a young man within, without a stitch of clothing on.
Some things DO change.
I did not attend the concert; I was not old enough, but I do remember teenagers asking my father for time off to go. He did not think it was a good idea. So they did not go. I wonder if they now wish they had slunk off, under cover of darkness, to drive from Vermont to Bethel for that weekend.
I do know of two people who attended. One has a story about hitch-hiking back that begins "and then a lady in a bathrobe picked us up . . . "
And that lady turned out to be the mother-in-law of L's preschool teacher. You just never know, do you, who will cross your path, in what order, and why . . .
A link to a review last Sunday of two books about the festival.
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The Burning Man festival intrigues me, but I'm not sure about the Nevada desert in August.
Frankly, I would love to attend the festival at Glastonbury. What will next year bring?