Retaking Woodstock

Ode to joy in Bethel, NY -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I recently had the pleasure of listening to Elliot Tiber’s personal memoir, Taking Woodstock; I then watched Ang Lee’s movie version of it a day later. Elliot Tiber was the 30ish president of the Bethel, New York Chamber of Commerce back in 1969. He helped his parents, two curmudgeonly, Russian Jewish immigrants manage their dilapidated roadside motel, El Monaco. He also did whatever desperate things he could do to attract new business -- art house movie night, swinging singles night, pancake buffets, etc. Elliot also lived a dual existence -- he was a straight-arrow motel manager on weekdays, and a very gay, Manhattan art director/designer on weekends. Batman’s Bruce Wayne would’ve been tested by this frequent change of identity.

Tiber is known for a Holocaust book he wrote, High Street (popular in Europe) but is more broadly known as the brave soul who offered his small town of Bethel to Woodstock Ventures, Inc, for staging of the world-shaking ‘69 rock music festival. He endured racist assaults, nasty graffiti, mob extortion attempts and innumerable spit wads from various angry neighbors and greedy onlookers. He withstood these many trials, and Woodstock went forward.

Tiber actually coordinated things with good friend, neighbor and dairy farmer Max Yasgur two miles down the road from his motel. El Monaco was a cramped, 10 acre swamp; Yasgur’s Farm was hundreds of verdant acres in the natural shape of a sloped amphitheater. Tiber was blessed to have Yasgur on his side -- the rest of Bethel was ready to tar and feather him. I won’t go into the details of Woodstock -- we all know it was a sun-and-rain drenched festival of sex, drugs, music and self-discovery. It was quite possibly (as described in the book) the center of the universe in August 1969. Editorial aside -- Woodstock Ventures repaired all damages and even gave the City of Bethel a 25K donation. 3,000 workers were engaged for the cleanup effort after the landmark event was over. Woodstock put the small town on the map, and Tiber was fully vindicated by the success and handling of the event.

I like to see how a multi-dimensional book gets condensed to a credible, two hour screenplay. Tiber’s book is a detailed autobiography which covers everything from Hebrew schools and sisters’ weddings to gay, coming-of-age stories. Woodstock only occupies the last part of the story and is more the backdrop than the story itself. Ang Lee’s movie starts with Woodstock -- the festival is actually the main focus and Tiber’s family is nearly a side story. Also some colorful characters are compressed into one or two for the sake of brevity. I guess a movie narrative has to pick up the pace where a book can meander all over the place and still maintain the reader’s attention.

There were a couple of passages that caught my attention in the book (and more obliquely) in the movie. This almost made Taking Woodstock worthwhile all by itself… Tiber’s father was an elderly (75ish) Jewish man, tired and spent from a life of grueling labor putting tar on roofs. Tiber’s mother was portrayed unsympathetically as a loud, bossy, money-grubbing nag. You might think that Tiber’s father would be at his wit’s end. Also, just prior to the Woodstock contract the father had been diagnosed with colon cancer. You might think he'd be ready to fold up shop, then and there.

But Tiber Senior was so invigorated by the Woodstock event that he came almost supernaturally alive -- he directed traffic, hired temporary help, cooked mass quantities of food and helped protect the motel from various would-be evil-doers. This stoic, quiet conservative Jewish man became fast friends with Vilma -- a transsexual security guard hired to patrol El Monaco. In fact, he became friends with a host of people he previously might’ve shunned. His mind opened to a whole new world and he was blissfully blown away by it. The colon cancer finally caught up with him a year after Woodstock and he made a special request to Elliot on his death bed… “Bury me in the small cemetery next to Yasgur’s Farm, facing Woodstock. That’s the best time I ever had in my life.”

I don’t know what special epiphany, if any awaits me for my future life -- hopefully something will blow my socks off. Must add, it’s always preferable that doors open when you’re young and healthy, not at death’s door. But it’s somehow encouraging to know that something from the 11th hour of this man’s life gave it way more meaning and joy. His body was old, decrepit and diseased and yet he laughed and danced -- he probably tacked a good, very good eight months to his time left. I think it's possible for us to schlep through a whole life devoid of anything so rewarding -- perish that thought. If you have six hours to devote, you might listen to the (sometimes shocking) audio memoir. For a less jolting experience, you can still “turn on” to the two-hour movie and travel back to 1969’s center of the universe -- Woodstock and the El Monaco motel.

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