Category: my dad taught Arlo Guthrie for one semester before he dropped out which is like I wrote “This Land Is Your Land”

There was that time in high school when, on the way home from a speech meet half way across the state, the forensics bus pulled in to a diner in Belgrade, Montana, and we orators and extemporaneous speakers suddenly found ourselves gasping with awe at the sight–in real, live Aqua Netted flesh–of the members of rock powerhouse Night…