I missed Woodstock

When baby boomers reminisce about their weekend at Woodstock, I have an evil (until now) secret that I have held. Instead of going to Woodstock that weekend I went with my parents to Mo-No-Mo-Nock. Instead of skinny dipping in the rain, I swam in the pool with the bathing suit that Mother picked out for me. Instead of taking acid and listening to the Grateful Dead, I went to the square dance and line danced with the other guests at the hotel.

All the hip kids at school went to Woodstock (if they weren't back packing in Europe) while I was playing golf with my father at Mo-No-Mo-Nock. I was one of the guys at the pool saying, "Woodstock! I would draft the whole lot of them!" While most baby boomers remember Woodstock, I will always remember the weekend at the Pocono's with mother and father Hubbard.