I vaguely remember my school days. They were what was going on while I was trying to listen to the Beatles.
When “Can’t Buy Me Love” came out, I wsa twelve. I sneaked out of school during morning milk break, bought the record and broke in to matron’s room because she had a record player. Then I played it, not loud enough to get caught, but just loud enough to hear with my ear pressed up against the speaker. Then I played it again for the other ear. Then I turned the record over and did the same for “You Can’t Do That.” That was when the houssemaster found me and put me into detention, which is what I had expected. It seemed a small price to pay for what I now realize was art.
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