Preface My heart pounded and my ears swooshed. I didn’t like asking questions in class, especially not a full philosophy class, but I had to make sure that I had heard correctly. “But, Professor, do you really believe it is possible for the sun, a star, to be alive?” I had to speak up above the buzz of voices from where I sat in the third row. No one was listening. They thought the Professor was just a big fat joke. And his overweight, wobbly appearance made him even more ridiculous, not to mention his bald Bozo-the-clown hairstyle. He stopped writing on the board and turned towards the class. “Who asked that question?” The noise level died down a bit. He had never spoken to anyone directly before. I raised my hand slightly but enough for him to see me. He frowned before answering. “It is not a question of whether it is alive. It is a question of form.” The noise level from disinterested students climbed even higher than before. I nodded and stuck my shaking hands deep into my pockets.
"I know I've said it to you a million times, but I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. And if you ever think of forgetting that, just listen to this album and remember. Listen to the words and the music. Listen to the title. Listen to your heart. And mine. I love you."The summer of 1978 is a time of transition for…
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