I was having a drink Wednesday evening with my friend Stephen Caine. The chatter wandered, aided by a decent dose of very fine, very cold gin. At a point in time, probably about two-thirds of the way into the conversation, we hit our marks. (Ever notice how most any discussion has its really important dialogue during the last 30% of the time, plus or minus. Almost like a law of nature!)
And what were our marks? Well, Stephen shared being at Woodstock for one night. Cold, smelly, wet, but an experience never to be forgotten. Or encountered/replicated again! And it’s that last part that mattered, as we wandered into the realm of “you can’t trap light in a jar,” experience