Eu, que nunca consegui me emocionar com as performances do Jimmy H., nem com as letras desafinadas da Janis J., finalmente, lendo um artigo se Simon R., numa New Yorker velhusca que eu deixo no lavabo para impressionar as visitas, finalmente compreendi Woodstock:

- Mr. President! Did you hear about Woodstock?
- Woo- Woodstock? What in God’s name is that?
- Apparently, young people hate the war so much they’re willing to participate in a musical sex festival as a protest against it.
- Oh, my God. They must really be serious about this whole thing.
- That’s not all. Some of them are threatening to join communes: places where they make their own clothing… and beat on drums.
- Stop the war.
- But Mr. President!
- Stop all American wars!
- (sighs) Very well sir. I’ll go tell the generals.
- Wow. It’s a good thing those kids decided to go hear music.

Curiosamente, tenho a sensação de que aqui não seria piada.