'Cause I've been down, I've been crawling.

Writer: Achu.

Once again, my mood isn't as great as it could be. Maybe one reason for this might be this stupid autumn, or then the fact that our single, that was supposed to be sent out to radio is still somewhere deep in the depths of our recording studio (I blame Miriam. That chick really can't keep that freaking workplace in a decent chaos, oh no, she has to have her own private mess around her, so that she can play her instruments as good as she can. No bad feelings for her, though. I've really known Miriam since we've been in high chool, so I've gotten used to her persona and blablabla. But it still doesn't mean I approve this messy lifestyle of hers. You reall should see her appartment, it nearly looks like.... this:

(ignore that man.)

I can't believe, or at least it's hard for me to believe that such a pretty girl as she, can be such a dumpy with cleaning her house. But anyways, I'm not here to talk about the earthquicky situation my dear bandmate is having. I was about to write something very wise and meaningless in this blog entry, but somehow I kinda managed to forget the subject I really was about to talk about. So, I guess I must just improvise.

Ahemn. Which happens not to be a good qualification of mine....... Anyone here interested from hearing an old story from Woodstock? It's actually an old story my mom used to tell me when I was little (yeah, I know. Not probably the best issue for a bedtime story. If you're a total monolingual with music history, watch this.), and time and time again I just wanted to hear the same story about that magical happening in the 70's.

I think I'll skip the deep and childlike narration-mode, and just tell the story just as it goes. So, this actually is a story about how my folks met, deep in smokes and other hallusinative intoxicants. If you love romantic cliche's, you could say they we're 'up on cloud number nine', literally. My mom was a teenage rebel, always doing everything her parents forbid her. She had even runaway for that festival, in hopes of after the  festival, be able to say goodbye to her matriarchal and patriotic folks, who just prayed that their beloved daughter would find a way to get rid of the 'Satan inside her that was seducing her in the darkest depths of Hell', and other cute and loving words. In my points of view, I think Rhonda, meaning my mom, made the right choice by leaving with no purpose to come back.

So, Rhonda left to Woodstock, in the middle of thousands, and again thousands of people, in big hopes of finding the right way to her life. I can't say if the way she chose was the best one - during the whole festival she appararently used over five-or seven different drugs, blue pills, and of course, what would be a free rock-festival feel like without the huge amount of illegally made alcohols? It's a miracle Rhonda actually survived with his head still on the shoulders of that festival. Altough, she was at the hospital for a few weeks because her body was totally cracked.

(note to self: No wonder I seem like a wacko, since my mom has been a total crack-whore when she was young, right)

Well the story continues with Daniel, my pops. His backgrounds we're a little better - with his dad dying at the age when he was only ten, her mom was really concerned about her two boys, Daniel and Henry. But inside Daniel, there of course lived a rebel. He didn't think it was appropriate for mom to treat her 18-year-old-son like a little snot-nosed youngster. And then, again, Woodstock happened.

Daniel actually was one of the head-arrangers of the festival....... kind of. He was the one responsible to put on the festival, and all the stages and other stuff that were there. Plus I suppose he had the duty to remove all the drug-dealers from there but..... ehh. Blame in on the youth in revolt, he really didn't turn the drug-duded away. I guess he didn't want to be a party pooper.

In case you didn't know it, as a festival Woodstock was pretty much kinda fucking epic. The head-artists-and bands performed there, and it is a big milestone in the history of rock. I guess it's big also, 'cause my mon and dad fif meet there, spend lots of time together since Daniel liked Rhonda's eyes and body, and Rhonda liked the thing that Daniel had good contacts to the drug-dealers. Such a sweet little romance, in the rock-history. Not exactly as romantic as Sid and Nancy were during their time together (gang-fights, broken bones, fanatic fans, physically aggressive, almost gory relationship-argues, and other lovely issues from their happiness), but still, pretty cute. After being about five years together, they moved in together and Rhonda got pregnant. Surprisingly, she gave birth for me. The best thing she had done in her her hitherto.

Okay that's about the improvisation for this day, I'm heading to bed - proving you this actually works pretty well as a bedtime story.