Rock-tober 02, 2019

Kids born after September 11, 2001, have a heavy burden to carry. They will never know a world where the twin towers didn't fall, and they'll never see in person New York City's nighttime skyline lit and punctuated by those two glass and steel monoliths. The world where they came of age was bleaker and more divisive. They'll know terms like IED and honor flights and the symptoms of PTSD. Faraway placenames like Mosul and Tikrit will be just as familiar as Boston or Miami. Perhaps most unfortunately, the America they know has always been at war.

Kids born after September 1982 have never known a world without AIDS. Their world has always included the deadliest and most persistent pandemic in human history. They would eventually come to learn how governments and international organizations scrambled to battle a ravaging disease that laid low both wealthy elites in their mansions and destitute homeless on the streets. This battle is still raging today.

I consider myself lucky to be born the last week of the last month of the last year of the '60s. My cultural references include an event that united the world rather than divided it. Everyone with a TV or within earshot of a radio watched and listened that July to the ongoing narrative as a couple of plucky adventurers dared venture into our night sky. All mankind watched and marveled as one of our own set foot on another world for the first time. Then, with the mission of exploration completed, people from all walks of life breathlessly awaited the return of our travelers and cheered as they rejoined us safely on our little blue orb. Differences disappeared, the vast infinity of the universe became just a little bit smaller, and, for one brief moment fifty years ago, we were our best selves.

The other cultural touchstone of my birthyear showcased a different kind of unity. Woodstock was touted as a festival showcasing "Three Days of Peace and Music". It lived up to its billing. Nearly half a million people gathered to hear legendary musical acts such as The Who, Janis Joplin, and Jimi Hendrix. For the duration of those three days in August, in sweltering heat and torrential downpours, among that press of humanity, there was not a single reported incident of violence.

Joe Cocker was part of Woodstock's historic lineup and his setlist included a cover of the Beatles' "With a Little Help from My Friends". Intervening generations can learn something from his soulful performance. With the country embroiled in tattered race relations and another very unpopular war, the Mad Englishman could have been paraphrasing Abraham Lincoln - destroy your enemies...by making them your friends.