Woodystock Festival Returns to the High Desert Oct. 1-2, 2016


Saturday, October 1 & Sunday, October 2 /Music Starts 11AM  Daily

Staking it’s claim as the largest yearly original blues and rock music event in the SoCal High Desert, the Woodystock Rock ‘N’ Blues Festival is back for it’s fourth big year, taking place Saturday, October 1 and Sunday, October 2, at Woodardville Ranch, (end of Chicago Rd.), in Apple Valley. Music start at 11 am each day. Tickets $20.00 per day in advance, $25.00 at the gate/day of show; 2-day tickets $35.00 in advance, $40.00 at the gate/day of show. Camping tickets $10.00 per night/per vehicle. Kids 12 and under, free. Tickets/info.: (760) 963-4994 or: Emceeing Woodystock again this year is High Desert station, KJAY Epic! Radio.

“Our goal is to bring first-class musicians to the High Desert,” states Woodystock founder John Woodard, who’s also a Councilman for the City of Adelanto. Woodard was also a driving force behind the Adelanto New Blues Festival last May at Stater Bros. Stadium.

Woodystock operates on Donations and Sponsorships. Contact John Woodard at (760) 963-4994 for Donation and Sponsorship opportunities.


Saturday, October 1

Johhny JukeBox 11:00am – 11:45pm

Victor Crain & the Lost Coast Project 12:00pm – 1:30pm

Reverend Smack Jones 2:00pm – 4:00pm

Electric Parlor 4:15pm – 6:15pm

Diana Reign & Papermoon Gypsies 6:30pm – 8:30pm

Crooked eye Tommy 8:45pm – 10:45pm

Open Jam 1100:pm – 1:00 am


Sunday, October 2

Johhny JukeBox 9:00am – 10:00pm

Babylon Steele 10:30pm – 12:30pm

Raul Watson 1:00pm – 2:00pm

Bruce McGhee -2eKond Kreation 2:30pm – 4:30pm

Rocfusion 5:00pm – 7:00pm

Kenny Cederholm 7:30pm – 9:00pm

Johhny JukeBox 11:00apm – 11:45pm


 About Some of the Performers at Woodystock Rock/Blues Festival

*All the way from Ventura come Crooked Eye Tommy, fronted by brothers/guitarists, Tommy and Paddy Marsh. The band  – who headline Saturday at Woodystock – is up for Best Blues Band and Album of the Year at the 2016 Ventura Music Awards.

*Hailing from Hesperia, The Lillies‘ sound is in the spectrum that lies between the raw/avant-garde tumble of sixtie’s indie greats The Velvet Underground and modern-day rock greats, U2. Yet, the quartet are also heavily rooted in the Blues.

*Returning to Woodystock this year is the ‘Reverend’ Smack Jonez. The singer-songwriter, New York-born and raised in Gavelston, Texas, was “sent here on a mission from God to bring you the love thru song and sound so that you, too can get down.” Watch Jonez electrify the Woodystock crowd with his energetic blend of blues, funk, rock and soul.

*One of the more eclectic bands to grace the Woodystock stage is Electric Parlor. The L.A.-based quartet takes pride in creating music that has an honest, raw, and live feel to it, relatable to music fans all over the world.  They are inspired by the past, and the lessons they have learned from years of listening to the forefathers of Rock ‘n’ Roll.

The tasty Down-Home Blues of guitarist Victor Crain graces the stage of Woodystock again this year.

*The guitar playing style of well-known High Desert-ite Victor Crain was once favorably compared to the great Jimi Hendrix. Crain, who resides in Llano, returns to Woodystock again this year to play some tasty Down-Home Blues.


Who's In Charge? Not the 8th Commandment.

I feel confident we have the tools and epidemiological expertise to address and abate the concerns with the Zika virus. I am not so bolstered nor assured there are any strategies in place to deal with the intractable epidemic of character disorders that have permeated every facet of our culture. Industry, Commerce, Government and Religion are being subsumed by tabloid culture. Behavior aberrancy has found a way to step to the front of the line and assume the mantle.

Feeding this viral character flawed population of alleged leaders is the 24 hour cable news cycle that has devolved to a visual form of Peoples Magazine and a highly profitable cottage industry that promulgates the historical journalistic adage, “if it bleeds it leads.” The purity of the Fourth Estate is being invalidated by corporate news narcissism that supersedes the individual citizen and concedes its news selections to ratings based on the new advocacy journalism. Attribution of material and lasting truth are the casualties. This trend alone will erode our democracy and poison the pure intent of free speech.

So who is in charge of this dystopia of advance payment disinformation that can seldom be discerned to be accurate? No one! It is like smoking cigarettes; a bad habit that consumed a nation, with no one in charge. The bad karma part of this trend is that  much of the media; print and broadcast, and the politico ghost writers, are violating the 8th commandment. To quote Ted Koppel, ” the Ten Commandments were not called the Ten Suggestions.”  The upshot being, there are consequences, most of which have their genesis in Citizens United. Remember the Supreme Court decision about “Stolen Valor?” It simply stated that it is not illegal to lie. To many of these earlier mentioned character flawed leaders, this is a green light to confabulate stories, character assassinations and  revisionist history. The current treatment of returning frozen assets to  Iran is a  prime example of scant attention to historical truth. How many of the common citizens know that these monies were for military equipment that we sold to them but never delivered as a result of the Regime, that we propped up, collapsing in 1979. We sold them F-16 and trained their pilots in Tucson, Arizona. Will you ever see any of this back story in news outlets? Washed away with the wave of currency over all aspects of history. Just one example of the frozen Fourth Estate. Cable news is on a feeding frenzy of controversy and have no interest in digging deeper to its origins. Ongoing controversy gains higher ratings than  thoughtful researched  narrative. There are exceptions, the Wall Street Journal.  Time Magazine, Atlantic, Harpers, New Yorker, Hillsdale ,New Max, The New American,(John Birch Society), Mother Jones. But how many read these?

The phrase, Fourth Estate is credited to Edmund Burke (1729-1797) a British politician who once asserted,” there are three Estates in Parliament, but in the Reporters Gallery yonder there sat a Fourth Estate more important then they all.”

Our First Amendment to the Constitution grants freedom for the press and allows it to be the watchdog and source of vigilance for the commoner. Yet the bastions of investigative journalism that informs and elevates the collective consciousness is an empty desk in the daily news.

I return to my assertion, we have become a nation of polarized peoples who rely on news that violates the 8th Commandment every single day. Is it possible that this is antecedent to most other national maladies?

The 8th Commandment is thus, You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.”

Admittedly, I was educated in Catholic schools, where we were instructed to engage in frequent “examination of conscience.”  That meant giving attention to the nuances of the 10 Commandments.   Some of those related to the 8th Commandment would be, deliberate lies,  perjury, harming  another’s reputation (slander or gossip), telling the  faults  of others (detraction), betraying trust, uncharitable criticism, rash  judgements and false suspicions, deliberately  misleading or deceiving and most important to this writer, is refusing to forgive.

In a nation that professes to be founded on Christian principles with a rising population of  Evangelicals,  should we not be reminded that these Commandments are not the 10 Suggestions.

Off to the Olympic Opening Ceremonies now. The perfect antidote to our news cycle.


Burning Man: Not for the Young, but the "Young at Heart.

This story is a reprint from the Senior News, highlighting seniors participating in Burning Man 2011.

No doubt about it, Burning Man is a younger person’s game. But scattered amongst the predominantly twenty-somethings are plenty of Burners in their 30’s and older.

Burning Man is not a cushy vacation. It can be difficult living out of a tent, with no running water and distant toilet facilities. The heat reaches the 90’s and 100’s depending upon the day and year and the constant and pervasive dust can wear out eyes and patience and infiltrate you and everything you own. You can’t really appreciate our omnipresent restaurants until there are none. No sales are allowed so if you forgot something, anything, you must find someone who will give it to you.

The nearest town is 17 miles away and is very tiny with only convenience-store amenities and once you are parked at Burning Man, you really don’t want to leave.

Trance and techno music plays everywhere, and loudly, only stopping for some unknown reason somewhere between 5 and 7 a.m. We tend to emotionally bond with the music we have done our mating dances to and if you are not so flexible (read “older”) the non-stop trance music can wear you out and make you irritable.

Trance/techno has a rapid, pulsing quality to it. Mostly non-lyrical, the instrumentals throb with a fast, low heartbeat and speeds you up. Watching the younger people, stripped down and over-heated, dance to it can be exhilarating. No line-dancing here, you are on your own. The music of raves. Every night in my tent, ear plugs in and waiting for sleep, the ten closest trance clubs’ music selections blended into one song of my own imagination. My head next to the ground in my tent, it was like going to sleep to ten distant locomotive engines that my mind made into one. It was organic and fun. But not necessarily good to hear all day for eight days.

No wonder that upon walking out of a free veggie and fruit bar with my friends Gary and Jill, the sound of rock music, Pink Floyd playing somewhere, really grabbed my attention. They could hardly keep up with me as I accelerated in the direction of Dark Side of the Moon.

We approached some sort of free-standing trailer, with padded round stools on two sides. Some incredibly attractive young people were sitting there drinking some incredibly attractive Bloody Marys. We sat down and were offered drinks. Let’s see, it’s 11 a.m. and we just ate squash and watermelon for breakfast. Sure, Bloody Marys are appropriate.

Three or four are more appropriate, five is jive, and we are really enjoying ourselves. As noon becomes a distant memory, drinkers are coming and going and the show goes on. We are part of it. From somewhere behind me, the smell of burning hemp drifts. For all the reputation of Burning Man as being a drug fest, this is the first evidence of it I’ve seen.

An attractive couple walks over from the camp on the other side of the road. They tell us they have been “married” at a camp that “marries” people for the duration of Burning Man. I contemplate the sensibility of an expiration date for what is, in essence, a contract in the real world.

Here in Burning Man, this “marriage” is a fun concept, but for these two it’s something more. This is the second year they have done this here and they “will be with each other” they tell us.

Shortly, two men in their 30’s have a seat and I watch amused as one begins a mating dance with some girls seated next to him.

Part of the show is that, from when we first sat down, the bar is still being erected around us. Sun shades are being expanded above us, lines are run, a stripper pole is attached at the top of the bar to the newly installed ceiling. Occasionally, over the next few days, the pole will beckon to one of the female (and, occasionally male) patrons, or a song inspires someone, and an impromptu dance will begin.

The creator of all this walks around with what looks like a gallon spray container called “Supergoop.” It contains Parsol 1789 Plus, so I know it’s good stuff. He offers to rub it on the female patrons to block out the sun. Spray and rub, spray and rub. Some of the scantily clad ladies are surprised at the friendliness of the 87-year-old proprietor. “Oops, I slipped a little,” he would say with a smile. The expressions on faces varied between shock and laughter.

I introduced myself and heard his story as his son Patrick tended the bar.

Stuart MacIntyre, 87, is from Oakland, California. A few years ago his daughter Maureen and son Patrick bought him a ticket to Burning Man and told him he was going.

He’d been in every state in the union and every Province in Canada and soon he would be going to Burning Man. “I can’t explain Burning Man to people. You almost have to be here. People are half-naked. People give stuff away. If we run out of vodka, we just have to mention it and people make it appear,” he said.

“When I tell my friends I’m going to Burning Man, they giggle. They all mention scantily clad girls. I tell them God created skin before we invented clothes,” said MacIntyre.

His first year, he set up a stainless steel table with bottles of booze on it. They had forgotten to bring tomato juice for the Bloody Marys, so they gave people tomatoes and plates and forks to mash with. Cheers!

Then MacIntyre, a former general contractor, sat down and began to sketch. The trailer had seats installed on either side of a slim bar area containing bottle racks. An audio system was installed.

His daughter’s artist friend decorated the bar’s face and black light paint was added.

The trailer contains 120 gallons of potable water and 75 of grey water. The grey water is mostly for the shower system at the far end of the bar, with its spray hose and drain.

One day my friend Gary was sitting next to the shower and turning around found a beautiful woman stripping off the last of her clothing. Being a gentleman, he picked up the hose and helped with her shower.

Shortly a woman’s gentle voice came from behind him, whispering. “Do you mind if I help?” she asked.

Burning Man. It’s hard to explain.