Flashbacking

Marianne Partridge, Tim Cahill, and Joe Klein



Dr. David Felton



Ben Fong-Torres

Those of us former staffers attending this weekend's 30th anniversary of when Rolling Stone left San Francisco (and lost its soul) had a couple major events today. One at the Roxie in the Mission this morning and one at Sweetie's in North Beach tonight.

As I watched my former colleagues tell stories this morning and play songs tonight, I thought about our entire generation of Baby Boomers, the lives we've lived, the stories we tell, and the messages we will try to leave behind.

Since collectively we are entering our seventh decade now and therefore nearing what used to be called retirement age, this ought to be, by all rights, a time of nostalgia. And today, there were a lot of fond remembrances, funny (in retrospect) stories, and heartfelt testimonials.

But more than all that, there was a sense, at least for me, of unfinished business, of a generation still restless and unsatisfied, still striving for something ineffable, as if our lives have not yet quite happened.

The Boomers are by far the largest generation numerically ever seen, though now we are dying off. Rolling Stone was one of the main voices of our generation. Those of us who worked there had a sense at the time that we were at the center of one universe or another, but if you asked us which onee, we just really weren't quite sure.

For all of us, the beat goes on.

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