Altamont: The end of the Age of Aquarius

When the moon is in the Seventh House

And Jupiter aligns with Mars

Then peace will guide the planets

And love will steer the stars

This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius

Can you get more optimistic than that classic from the 5th Dimension?

We remember the 1960s fondly:  The age of Aquarius.

It was a time of optimism and promise.  

US President John F Kennedy made the bold promise of successfully landing a man on the moon and bringing him home within the decade.  

This was most apparent in the music and broad hippie culture of peace and love…combined with protests over the Vietnam war.  

The 60’s came to a screeching halt on December 6, 1969 at the Altamont music festival in California. 

The Altamont Speedway Free Festival as it was called, was billed as Woodstock West in reference to Woodstock, the iconic event on Max Yasgur’s farm in New York a few months earlier.  

"I'm going down to Yasgur's Farm

Gonna join in a rock 'n' roll band

Got to get back to the land

Set my soul free"

Those lyrics are from ‘Woodstock’ by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.  It was their first live performance with that lineup and they defined Woodstock.

At Altamont only a few months later, Santana, Jefferson Airplane and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, The Rolling Stones and the Grateful Dead were on the lineup. It was to be another celebration of peace and love!

By all accounts things were bad from the start.  “A bad vibe was in the air”. 

Planning was chaotic.  

The venue changed location at the last minute, the stage setup was problematic and to cap it off, the Hells Angels were hired to provide security.

Rowdiness and violence during the performances prompted 

The Grateful Dead to cancel their performance…and they were the main organizers!

When The Rolling Stones finally took the stage to close out  the event, all hell broke loose! 

Fans had been storming the stage and the Hells Angels played fast and loose with their interpretation of security.  There were multiple altercations with fans…fights broke out…lots of bruised heads.

The Stones stopped their set and pleaded for calm.

That’s when things got crazy.

Meredith Curly Hunter was among those who had been beaten back by the Hells Angels as he tried to get closer to the stage.  He took it badly, left and came back with a pistol, out for revenge for the bad treatment.  

He was killed in the ensuing melee.  Figuratively and in reality, the 60s died that day.  Best captured in the opening lyrics from the Rolling Stones, Gimmie Shelter:

A storm is threatening my very life today

If I don't get some shelter…I'm gonna fade away

Altamont symbolized the breakdown of the love and peace idealism of the 1960s and the potential dangers of large, poorly planned gatherings. 

It is remembered as a tragic and violent event that had a profound impact on the history of rock music festivals and the cultural perception of the 1960s.

The 1970s were marked by significant cultural movements, shifts in fashion and music, and pivotal moments in civil rights, feminism, and environmental awareness. 

However, it was also a decade of economic uncertainty and political turmoil, making it a complex and transformative period in history.

These lyrics from ‘One Tin Soldier’ by the Canadian band, The Original Caste speak to the boiling up 1970’s culture:

Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend

Do it in the name of heaven, you can justify it in the end

Until next time…

Culture shock: Growing up in the 1970's

The chorus from the Joni Mitchell hit, Big Yellow Taxi“ released in 1970 goes like this:

“Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone”. 

I grew up in the 1970s, the son of Jamaican immigrants.  It was a turbulent decade that mirrored the turbulence we experienced as a family beginning a new life in Canada.

The culture shock of immigrating to Canada from our home in Jamaica was just the first a cold reality after having spent many vacations in Canada in the years leading up to our big move. 

In 1967 we travelled to Canada for the first time. We were here to visit family and friends in and around Toronto.  That was exciting enough but an even bigger part of the trip was our planned visit to Montreal to take in Expo 67. 

Canada and certainly Montreal was buzzing that year in celebrating 100 years as a nation.  

I’ll always look back fondly on the road trip down the 401 to Montreal.  I got to ride on the top of the luggage in the back of a huge Ford ‘woodie’ station wagon.  Yes, those were the days before seat belts and airbags!

We spent 3 days touring Expo; going on the rides; visiting the pavilions; riding the monorail; stuffing ourselves with food.  On one of the days it rained…we splashed in the puddles and got soaked thoroughly.  That was a glorious day.

Montreal and Expo 67 began our love affair with Canada.

A few years later when the violence in Jamaica intensified, my parents made the decision to leave our homeland.  Canada was the choice; us kids didn’t push back.  

The 4 hour airplane trip transported us from the world we knew into one we thought we knew.  As is typical for most immigrants, we experienced the culture shock of moving from a visitor to a resident.  

And what a shock it was!

We dressed differently.  We spoke with a thick accent.  We looked different. We ate different food.  

Thankfully I liked rock music…I know, a kid from Jamaica who didn’t like Reggae?

Rock…that became my ticket to adapting and fitting in. 

And that’s what we did back then.  Fit in.  

I’ve liked rock for as long as I can remember. In Jamaica my early music collection included Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Jefferson Airplane and Led Zeppelin.  

In Canada I added The Guess Who and a little 3 piece heavy rock band called Rush.  A highlight of my mid-teens was seeing Rush play live very early in their career:  In Brampton in front of no more than 90 fans, they rocked the place!  I was hooked!

Until next time...

Oldsmobile 88

The Oldsmobile Delta 88 was a beast!  A two door coupe with a massive 350 cubic inch V8 engine.  The enormous doors opened enough to allow entry into the back seat without moving the split fold front bench seat.  It was left hand drive.  The reason I note that is that this was my Dad's car when we lived in Jamaica...where cars drove on the left side of the road.  It was totally inappropriate but we loved it!

I was around 10 or 11 years old when this beast came into the family.  By then I was working with my Dad at his Texaco Service station on Spanish Town Road on the edge of Trench Town in Kingston.  He was an early riser so by 5:30 am we were in the Olds on our way to work.  

The Service Station provided a number of services.  Gas of course and diesel...truck and bus owners were regular customers.  Then there were the oil and lube done on a hoist for the cars and over an open pit for the trucks and buses.  In those days suspension bits and ball joints needed to be lubed up.  I can still remember the sound of the compressor hissing as it pulled thick lubricant from the 55 gallon drum.  And the smell...ahhh....!

We repaired tires as well.  In those days all bias ply tires had an inner tube.  It had to be removed in order to repair it.  That was my first job:  Patching and repairing inner tubes.  The surface around the hole had to be roughed up first then the adhesive was applied and allowed to get tacky.  Only then could the 'patch' be applied.  Then it was on to the vulcanizer:  a press that applied pressure and heat to permanently fix the patch to the tube.  Once done, I inflated the tube, ran it under some water to see if there were any bubbles and if none, gave it back to the installer to put back onto the rim.

Then it was time for lunch.  And another ride in the Olds. Most days we headed to my Grandmother's place for a home cooked meal.  Usually something with rice...heavy, and delicious.  We always made time for a quick nap before heading back to the service station for the afternoon.

The day we had the collision was like any other.  We had stopped at a local plaza on the way to lunch. Dad pulled out of the parking lot directly into the side of a small Japanese car.  To this day I don't remember feeling any impact!  The front end of the Olds was miles away and protected by a solid steel, chrome plated bumper. 

We both jumped out of the Olds to inspect the damage. The chrome bumper had made a remarkable accurate indentation in the side door of the impacted car.  Thankfully we had been going slowly and the impact was on the empty passenger side of the car.  The Olds bumper had a...scratch! 

This being Jamaica, Dad and the other car owner quickly settled things with Dad offering to pay for the repairs.  Then we jumped back in the Olds and headed to lunch.  Within minutes it seemed a distant memory.

They don't make cars like that anymore.  Which is probably a good thing.  Today at high speed, a car like that vintage of Oldsmobile would cause serious damage.  But darn...I do miss that Oldsmobile 88!

Until next time...

Swedish cars rock

My love affair with Swedish cars began with a SAAB 900 Turbo.  It was a used silver 3-door.  Blue leather interior, steel sunroof and 3 speed automatic.  A big 4 cylinder engine with a huge turbo.  When the turbo kicked in, hang on!  I loved that car.  For the first time driving, I felt at one with a vehicle.  I drove that car until the dashboard electrics 'flashed out' one day and all the electronics quit!  I figured a fire was next so limped it into the SAAB dealership in Oakville.

There I traded it for a light green 9000 5 door Turbo.  Another automatic with a tan leather interior.  The dashboard and controls were all in their familiar places...it was an easy transition.  This car was really nice at highway speeds...it liked 125 kph.  So did I.  The hatchback was a great feature:  I could fold down the rear seats and turn it into wagon.  The twins learned to drive in this car and once they had their full licences it never rested on weekends.  One weekend in particular they ran up almost 1,000 km driving around Mississauga!  

When that SAAB left, I wandered away from the brand for a couple of vehicles.  All good but not Swedish.  My next one though was the sweetest:  A gunmetal grey SAAB 9-5T.  A four door with grey leather interior.  The T stood for the larger turbo and by that model most of the torque steer had been engineered out.  This was my favourite of all.  It could carve the corners and cruise all day on the highway.  Sally also loved this car...I think I even let her drive a couple of times.  I was sad to see it go.

And to see SAAB go the way of the dinosaur only a few years later in the collapse of the GM empire.

Many years later I was looking for a 'well-used' used car.  Or...cheap car!  I found an older Volvo V70 wagon on a used car lot in Wasaga Beach.  It was a little banged up on the rear door on the passenger side but it started, idled smoothly and drove straight.  There was a little knock in the engine but nothing I was too worried about.  That car was a workhorse.  Weekly drives up and down the 400 to Toronto, multiple dump runs when we got ready to sell the house in Toronto.  It just went and went... Once back in Toronto and not needing a second vehicle, Holden inherited it.  He drove it for a couple years more before the brakes finally gave up the ghost.  It was a sad day for us when we dropped it off at the scrap yard.

Next up was an old Volvo V50 that I picked up about 4 years ago for myself.  By then Sally was driving a Volvo XC 60...more on that in a moment.  

The V50 had a ton of mileage on it but the engine ran smoothly, transmission was solid and I liked the shape.  I drove that up until Holden took it over earlier this year.  We've had to do some suspension work but otherwise the car runs well.

Back to the XC60 that I'm currently driving.

It was Sally's baby.  She had driven Volvo's before and loved them.  She survived a car accident many years ago in a Volvo and appreciated the engineering.  We purchased this one with about 100,000 km on it.  Black with tan leather interior and pretty tricked out.  The big engine was a draw:  It lit up on the highway when we test drove it.  Sold!  

I've been driving it since early this year. Its bigger than I like in a car but it drives 'small'. I have a colour-coordinated car carrier for Milo in the back seat and with windows down and sunroof open, we both enjoy the open road.

Yes Swedish cars are quirky.  They are not for everyone.  But once you've had one...

Until next time...