The Slow Death of an American Dream
A personal remembrance of family, money, Microsoft, and orange trees 1969-present. I was born as Jimi Hendrix was wrapping up his performance at Woodstock. Only 17 days earlier, mankind landed on the moon. Supposedly, for the first time. I imagine I was poking my head out of the birth canal as the chords of The Star-Spangled Banner jumped from Hendrix's guitar, lighting the country New York skies on fire.