Over the weekend, I hopped in the DeLorean, punched it up to 88, and traveled back to 1969. At Woodstock, aka Coachella, the terrain was picturesque enclosed by mountains and surrounded by palm trees. It was the perfect canvas for booming music, art, fashion, and billowy clouds. Everyone (yo tambien) was decked to the nine's in hippie chic couture which meant cutoffs, headbands, fringe, feathers, and tie-dye galore...Ms. Jagger had nothing on us! I hopped, skipped, shook my groove thing, and even broke out into cartwheels in celebration of the '69 (and Tupac) resurrection. Like all good things, though, Sunday rolled around and now, alas, (until next year) it’s back to life, back to reality in 2012.