It was late-afternoon when the Cadillac rolled into Woodstock. Having never been to the legendary hippie mecca, Red was shocked by what he witnessed. He expected a quaint sort of hamlet, a few writers and musicians meekly going about their business, a few shops catering to such: bookstores, a record shop, a health food store. Instead he was punched between the eyes by a torrent of Day-Glo and tie-dye and murals. Expensive boutiques sat cheek-to-jowl with new-age emporiums. Jack said, "Sheesh! This is like a carnival. Читать дальше...