I love this town

The reason I missed the screening of "All Together Now," as well as the Garrison Keillor documentary, was that I was offered an opportunity I could not pass up, as a journalist, music lover and student of the Woodstock generation.

During a rare quiet moment at the Colony Cafe during the film festival, I got to talking with Doreen Ringer-Ross, vice-president of film/tv relations at BMI, which, according to the organization's Web site, "collects license fees on behalf of its songwriters, composers and music publishers and distributes them as royalties to those members whose works have been performed."

Hmmm. Artists getting paid for their craft. For someone who writes for a living, and is married to a visual artist, I couldn't be happier about what BMI does.

So I was talking to Doreen at the Colony and after introducing myself I told her how much I enjoyed her panel discussion at the 2007 Woodstock Film Festival with, among others, local hero John Sebastian. It was a good talk with no grizzle and lots of information, lots of facts, and lots of insight on the guy who WAS the Lovin' Spoonful, but who I knew better as the guy who sang the theme to "Welcome Back, Kotter."

I told Doreen I would be attending her talk Friday with Donovan, and then we got to talking about Donovan's documentary, and his legacy. She told me this wonderful story about being with Donovan in Austin, Texas, and a 25-year-old or so radio journalist said something to the effect of, "Donovan, you were around in the 1960s, what's the best drug?" And without missing a beat, Doreen explained, Donovan replied, "Love."

Now, coming from someone else, that could be a condescending, cliche answer. But coming from Donovan, who I learned at the film festival was a real 1960s, flower-power, true to the spirit of Woodstock the concert and Woodstock the town kind of guy, this was holy scripture.

And as she did with Sebastian last year, Doreen during her discussion with Donovan really drew out of of him a lot of great stories, about The Beatles, India, songwriting, working with kids, and more. She really let the audience at the Donovan panel discussion get to know a human being who has done incredible things, a real person, a true human being, rather than a star who existed in some other plane, out of reach from the rest of us.

So while I'm talking to Doreen at the Colony, she invites me to an extremely exclusive dinner at Oriole 9, one of the finer restaurants in downtown Woodstock, just off the village green. I know from years past that this is dinner is a big deal and I'm flattered to be invited and of course, I go.

And what an event it was. I don't want to say the elite or hierarchy of Woodstock was there, because that would be disingenuous. These people are not elite, nor are they a hierarchy. Like Donovan, these are regular people, like you and me, who have done incredible things with their talent, their art, their craft, their love for what they do, then indulged their eagerness and willingness to share it with others.

At the dinner was Michael Lang, the man who staged the 1969 Woodstock concert. There was also Eliott Landy, whose rock and roll photography of Bob Dylan, The Band, Janis Joplin, Van Morrison and many, many others is as much a part of the American music legacy as any band. Donovan was at the dinner, as was legendary cinematographer Haskell Wexler, and so many more I can't put all their names here.

I particularly enjoyed my very brief conversation with Morgan Spurlock, the journalistic genius who a few years ago ate nothing but McDonald's food for a month and chronicled his descent into love handles in a film, "Supersize Me." I told Morgan that his film really made me think about what I eat. He then took a step back, looked me up and down and said, "well, you look pretty dapper."

I chatted with Michael Lang about the Wavy Gravy documentary that is in production and said hello to Elliot Landy, with whom I had spoken last Wednesday at the Bela Fleck concert. And I sat at dinner with Suzanne Hilleary from Wacbiz, Academy Award-winning filmmaker Leon Gast and his wife, Geri; and Ike Phillips from WDST and his wife Carol.

I had a great time. And overseeing it all was Doreen, who sat at one end of a table, just beneath a big BMI banner that read, "You may be independent, but you are not alone." A nice thought for all of these artists in the room, and for this aspiring artistc, as I slug it out at the local daily newspaper, and try to make my way as a writer, striving to reach that horizon beyond the daily deadlines and fading future of the newspaper industry in the U.S.

Leon spoke about recording sessions where Billy Joel and David Sanborn were unknown studio musicians; Leon and Ike spoke about the days when you could just dial the last four digits of a phone number in Woodstock, and leave out the 679 you now need (that conversation was spurred by the name of the restaurant, Oriole 9, which recalled the days when 6-7-9, the Woodstock phone exchange, was called, O-R-9, or Oriole 9.)

Ike and Leon also had some great stories about the Rolling Stones recording at Bearsville Studios, up the road from the village green in Woodstock, and the legendary private party the Stones threw at the Joyous Lake, once a club, now home to Not Fade Away clothing.

This was a real party, with real people, who discovered something they love to do and worked their entire professional lives at doing it as best as they could. They were inspiring to me, as artists and as people. I've had some pretty extraordinary times at past Woodstock Film Festivals, filming a one-on-one video interview with Wavy Gravy, watching Trey Anastasio and Mike Gordon from Phish play a surprise set at the now-closed Allaire Studios, and speaking with Peter Gabriel after a screening of his daughter's documentary.

But this BMI dinner was an event for the ages.

I had a great time.

Thank you, Doreen.
See you next year?