One way to mark the chronology of the counterculture, a pastime that is beloved by the baby boomers, is by reference to rock festivals. Woodstock and Altamont, for example, are now fully transformed into transcendent symbols of life and death, good and evil, the beginning and end of something. But the real starting point, the uber-festival, was Monterey.
New downtown Grammy Museum reflects on music's importance, even during a time of industry uncertainty
Dan Crane struts onto the stage, hurls off his sunglasses, rips his T-shirt to shreds, and rocks his way through a knee-sliding, tongue-flicking performance so awesome that groupies' squeals drown out the amps. They're cheering so loudly you'd think Crane represents the second coming of Jimi Hendrix -- except that his guitar "performance" is sans guitar.
For many years while growing up, I was embarrassed by my last name: Heinstein. I was surrounded by Jews, but they got the lucky surnames -- you know, the ones without a -berg, -stein or -man. Come on, I was entering the rock 'n' roll biz; it was about crosses, not Stars of David. I can't have a geek name like Heinstein! Okay, I was aware of Lenny Kravitz and David Lee Roth, but at least their names didn't end in -stein. So, I used my middle name: Evan. Steven Evan. It was doable.