Blue Moon, The Marcels: (Marin County, 2004)

Blue Moon, now I’m not longer alone, without a dream in my heart. I’m sitting in the white Mustang convertible, top down, The Marcels blasting. I park in front of Silbermann’s Ice Cream, over a hundred teenagers descend on the place, swarm me. I buy a sundae, start signing yearbooks. Teacher of the Year saying goodbye to the public school kids, the ones who were born knowing how to question authority, innately understood the UC system, the standardized conformist machine. They had embraced me for what I was, a rebel. The man who taught A History of Knowledge by Van Doren, ignoring every California state requirement. The man who took them up Pine Mountain on a full moon without a first aid kit, old school. I played them The Who, brought in the Vietnam Vets, PTSD’ed the history of war. 35 to a room, crammed together, surrounded by my old LIFE magazines. Hours later, the last student leaves and my sundae is melted. I get back in my car, you heard me saying a prayer for, someone I really could care for.

Blue Moon by The Marcels:


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