No one was texting Mom im ok bt wet from Woodstock says the New York Times' Gail Collins, one of the few columnists to admit having been there. (And how old are you?)
Nor were Woodstockers texting nxt to bg grn tent w peace sign WRU@? to locate each other.
No, in those days the handheld devices audiences consecrated bands with were (anyone?) Bics --yet somehow the event was recorded without legions of volunteer citizen documentarians operating today.
Other tech inventions were missing, too back then. Like ATMs and credit cards--which would have been marked for "nationalization" in Steal This Books days--and credit ratings themselves.
Imagine boarding a plane without the airline knowing your age, address, travel history, spending habits and outstanding balance. Imagine buying tickets with no Ticketron. Who remembers anonymity? Who misses it?
Festing was cheaper in those days too. It cost $18 to attend the 3 day rock concert and about $10 to fly standby from Indianapolis to Albany albeit in the company of the guys on the other side of the culture divide, the G.I.s. Hold the antiwar songs.
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