I played a small part in a Seattle Times magazine story that ran on Sunday. The reporter reached out a few months back, asking for input to aid a story on how Seattle’s loosely-defined “hipness” has been a big draw to the City for decades. Given that my beat is more in line with nostalgia and cultural geography, I was skeptical about someone loosely aiming to dissect the history of hipness in Seattle. Now that it’s out there, I’m still not sure what his journalistic origami looks like for other readers. It’s a pretty big grab bag of historical sub-references. But I can dig the occasional story melange of random shiny bits. Plus the front-cover photoshoot with Anthony “Sir Mix-a-Lot” Ray at Dick’s Drive-In and a fuller-than-most profile of the Blue Moon Tavern (where I met my wife, with whom I’m celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary this coming week) make this piece worth checking out. My conversations with the reporter only flashed back a link to this website and an unquoted sliver of one meta-story (how a few years back the Danish Ambassador to America requested my tour and we were joined by a very hip handful of museum pros and Michelin-Star-winning Scandinavian chefs). In the end, it didn’t tumble off the rails and I’m glad it ran.
If you’ve not heard about the horror documentary on HBO that recently tipped into the mainstream like an overfilled Porta-potty, consider yourself about to be warned. “Woodstock ‘99: Peace, Love, and Rage” unfolds like the poorly-planned disaster it most certainly was live. Grunge sentimentality factors in as a counterpoint with thoughtful shots of Nirvana fading into the mid-90s background. The metal-rap headliners (Limp Bizkit, Korn, and Kid Rock) egged on the hot, angry, drunken crowd. I’m not sure if I actually recommend watching this doc. Maybe hate-watch it in disbelief. While it’s surely an overly simplified take on that period of nothingness in rock, “Woodstock ‘99” serves as a cautionary tale. I’m not sure what it’s cautioning us to take to heart. Other than to say we should all be wary of over-simplified analysis. Grunge sentimentality neglects many of the useful lessons to be taken from that era. If anything, I’m more assured that a cultural look back needs to be honest about the good as well as the bad from any scene. It’s just hard to see anything good that came from that era of festival cluelessness with the likes of Fred Durst and promoter John Scher leading the charge. Aside from Moby’s commentary. He’s a voice of reason that runs counter to the exploding septic tank that was the festival at the core of this documentary.
Bringing it back home briefly - I’m definitely not stoked about the rise of Delta variant even here in well-vaxxed Seattle. So it’s with a measure of caution that I get back into gear later today with my first August tour. In July, I led 7 of the 20 tours planned through a final blowout on September 24th. For those interested in joining the fun, I’m doing three near-term tours (Wed., Fri., and Sat.) before heading to California with family. But if public safety concerns mount, I may need to cancel this finally final run of regularly scheduled tours. I’ve already had a corporate group with new travel restrictions postpone until at least October. I’ll update as need be in the weeks ahead. If you’re thinking about joining me for a tour, do us all a favor first and get the jab(s).
Here’s hoping I see you soon out there on Seattle’s streets.