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Bidding has ended on this item. Item:My Own Private Woodstock - Original Drawing Very Large  |
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Report itemMy Own Private Woodstock Bright, vivid markers on heavy 17 x 22 cover. About one and one-half feet by two feet. Ordinary materials for very unusual art. Sometimes based on ideas I've put other places on walls, alleys, t-shirts, backs... Each piece is an original drawing - not a print Signed, rolled and carefully tucked in a tube. Free shipping in the US. 100% Positive Feedback - Complete Satisfaction Anything less and I'll return your money. Period. Every picture tells a story - more art listed here. Woodstock I wasn't there. I was in California, in the Marines, in staging battalion. After boot camp and infantry training and radio repair school. I was finally on my way to Vietnam. I hated my first fourteen months in the Corps. All swagger and false bravado. Posturing, pushups and polishing brass. Then I got to staging battalion and everything changed. Morale was low but camaraderie was high. And most of us had grown disillusioned and had begun to question everything. We still obeyed, we still did our job, but it was livable. They grabbed infantry grunts, just back from Vietnam and made them instructors. They wanted out, but the Corps put them in charge. These weren't the kind of guys who were going home to marry and sell insurance. They were the ones who made you lock your house and hide your sister. I think the officers were scared of them, like you are around someone who's unbalanced and unpredictable. Plus, how do you punish someone who absolutely doesn't care? Liberation. It was like Woodstock had invaded a military culture. But it wasn't peace, love and understanding. It was telling the military establishment, the lifers, the rest of the country, get outta my face and leave me the !@#$ alone. These scruffy guys had seen it, survived it and were showing us how. Not how to look good and get promoted. But how to get through it and get home. This Marine Corps wasn't anywhere advertised. I didn't know it existed. But this was what I joined to find - this was real. I never used my long expensive school. Never repaired a single radio. Never even saw any of the equipment I'd been trained to fix. Turns out, when I got to Vietnam, they needed riflemen not repairmen. And I was very glad those scruffy, cynical scofflaws had shown me the best way to be one. Thanks for visiting, please don't forget to bid. |
Shipping and handling Item location: UPLAND, IN, United States Shipping to: United States
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