Vietnamizing Woodstock

With Nixon’s Vietnamizing the war, we all felt the rumbles.

What it is, ain’t exactly clear.

I could feel it: in the air, through the radio airwaves, and at outdoor concerts (very few). Vibrations in Haight Street sent shockwaves across the pond, spilling out onto the streets of Saigon “If you’re going to San Francisco…be sure to wear some flowers in your hair”.

Flowers (stickers) on cars, notebooks, desks, and walls. Short-lived and fleeting, flowers found their way like rhythms of the rain into our lyrics e.g. “ wish we could live like flowers “. A sense of dread loomed large. Eternity in one hour. It was as if someone had pressed “fast forward”. While stoically watching “ as tears go by” e.g. napalm girl and burning monk – I escaped to the cinema with Ten Years After, Hendrix and Carlos Santana: “A whole new generation…with a new explanation ” – nude in Upstate “Eden” mud. Naturally, I was mesmerized and transfixed, trying to process two opposite realities ( guns vs guitars).

Confucianism, Colonialism, Catholicism, Communism, Capitalism and Consumerism. What’s all that? “Imagine all the people…and the world will be One”. A few years earlier, a neighbor, my puppy – love, already joined a new group, the Apples Three, a Vietnamese version of the Rhonettes (Be My Baby). She could sing with electricity in her eyes: “…Said you’ll be back this way again baby .” like a Superstar she was. My last glimpse was when she got driven off (our very own Natalie Wood, in This Property is Condemned, born on the wrong side of the track yet boarded a one-way train to the Big Easy ). I assumed she was to meet surging go-go club demand (as our society morphed from ballroom to bar-hopping).

Cultural transition however takes time. French was still spoken. Even at an all-boys Catholic high. Per witness accounts, for the first time since its founding, La San Taberd’s Auditorium was at full capacity pre-show. Girls in short skirts ( down the block at an all-girls Gia Long High, it’s Ao Dai only ) and guys in unbuttoned waistcoats. The crowd kept surging and “occupying” the “colonial” prime real estate under the Principle/Priests’ watching eyes.

John Lennon’s glasses, shaggy hair, long hair, and all hair. Relieved that the situation was under control, the stern priest’s self-congratulation was however short-lived …” Imagine….and no religion too”.

After Woodstock, I did not need further inducement: “Come on people now, smile on your brother everybody gets together “ How could I not trail after my upperclassmen? “He ain’t heavy, he is my brother”…to finally have my audition and performance with our school band – all senior high (I was still in Middle School). Hit-Parade Chart listed California Dreaming and Don’t Let Me Down (stirring ) while Dona Dona or Dream, Dream (settling) still lingered on their last legs, just like its predecessor Que Sera Sera as French gave way to English and the francs the dollars.

“I hope someday you’ll join us…” Indeed Filipino, Indonesian, and American bands (“ We come to your town, We’re American Band”) also appeared in subsequent venues. Talking about the global impact of rock. I remember wowing at how free Woodstock was ( a crowd shot, showing one black guy standing and dancing amidst a sea of shirtless white).

Up State, Jimmy Hendrix transcended the color of one’s skin and the content of one’s creed (unlike today’s excess Capitalism, under the guise of “giving”…. ). Army-surplus goods in flea markets, British-Invasion music over the air ( “Reflections of my life”.) While humming “Who are you… tutu tutu” we still had to choose: books or breakfasts? Learning delayed the draft. (Didn’t want to end up in a flag-draped coffin like my next-door neighbor). Each house hung a picture of our President – one assassinated, the other fled. Anthem played at 6 pm on Channel 9. We believed what we were told. One official version. Few opposing views e.g. “Song” (Life) dailies whose editor Chu Tu got blown up on a boat right in front of my eyes. He did not make it out of Saigon on the regime’s last day.

“Nous irons au coeur du monde…” Mopping up after their WWII predecessors, boots were in knee-deep water (China Beach). All showed up like at the intergalactic bar in Star Wars: China, Soviet Union, France, Britain, Japan, US, US allies Korean, Australian, Netherlander, Filipino, Thailand, Polish/Iranian peace observers. All fought then faded – just like the French in Indochina. All spent: Billions in bombs and Millions in lives.

No flowers no stickers.

Only marked or mass graves.

Cry, my beloved country.

Something happened.

What it is, ain’t exactly clear.

Confucianism, Colonialism, Catholicism, Communism, Capitalism, and Consumerism; without a “new explanation”.

Choppers and children behind.

Unlike 3 days of Tet the year before, those 3 days of Peace & Music – with Michael Lang ( his Vietnamese equivalent, Truong Ky – the first Rock event organizer) saw crowds crash his concert. “It’s beautiful,” he said. ” Now that they are here we have to feed them…we have to prioritize.”

Woodstock came alive as I revisit it from “both sides now”; for the living and the dead, I’d put on Joe Cocker’s: “ You are so beautiful…, to me” to end on a high note (with Director‘s cut of Upstate nude in the rain / SVN naked napalm girl. On split screen).

From time to time, I still am “looking for a heart of gold, …and I’m getting old”.

…” Long ago, it seems so far away… said you’ll be coming back this way again baby”.