Dear Mr. Lipkind,

A Facebook friend recently asked, "Can anybody with music smarts explain why I like "ghost in you" by the psych furs?" My response:

"Technical nomenclature and analysis techniques are highly suspect and may skew to oxymoronic proportions when attempting to differentiate and codify specific elements of an individual's musical preferences. In other words: No."

Being a smart ass comes naturally. Being an articulate smart ass is what I'm thanking YOU for.

You weren't just my best English teacher, or best teacher. You opened my world.

I moved to Missoula Montana in October 1972, a painfully introverted and shy 14 year old freshman trying to blend into the walls. New town, new school. No friends.

But I had this weird-ass English teacher, also new to the school, who would sit cross-legged on his desk - and talk WITH us, not AT us, or down to us. WTF! A teacher asking US what WE thought. Playing John Lennon's "Working Class Hero," strategically riding the volume knob to delete the word 'fuck.' Asking for our votes in the upcoming presidential election: Nixon by a landslide, just like the real world. "But I think there's something to this Watergate business…."

Classic quote: "I don't believe in God. But I believe in Santa Claus."

Challenging us, provoking us, inspiring us - to get in touch with OUR feelings, examine what WE thought, about ourselves and the world around us. Assigning provocative reading often banned in schools now: "Go Ask Alice." "1984." "Fahrenheit 451." Instigating spirited and often controversial discussions. And when they'd get TOO hot, putting his finger to his lips, saying "Ssshhh" - and pointing up to the intercom speaker.

Not telling us WHAT to think, but TO think, and to think for ourselves: don't let politicians or our family or entertainers or anyone else do our thinking for us. That is a lesson for life, for eternity, for the ages. That is a gift you gave to me. That's right up there with the gift of life as best gifts ever.

Authority SHOULD be questioned. That's the essence of freedom, as opposed to totalitarianism. Voltaire said: "To learn who rules over you, simply find out who you are not allowed to criticize." I didn't read Voltaire until college, but you made that very plain back in high school.

They fire teachers for telling students to question authority. You almost got fired that first year, and had to 'tone it down' a bit - but I was hooked. I raved about you to my sister, who was unimpressed with your class. Faux News does her thinking for her these days.

Sophomore English composition was great! I sat in the front, so when everyone passed in their homework I got a quick glance at it. An idiot in back tried to pawn off an old Beatle tune as his own. I chuckled - and harder still when passing his work back with your big red F on it.

One thing I wrote for that class (in the spirit of Mad magazine) was:


THE MAD PRIMER OF HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS


See the Straight.
See him twiddle his thumbs
and say "Yes, teacher"
and do all his assignments
and usually get an "A" on each one.
Straights are usually on the Honor Roll.
It gives them something to do
being on the Honor Roll
since they have nothing else to do.
Straights are the type of people 
who grow up to run our country
but never seem to do a good job of it. 
Maybe some of these "straights" 
running our country today
need to be straightened out.
 

See the Clown.
A clown is the type of person
who doesn't do anything but have fun.
(How exhilarating!)
They usually have a lot of friends
and say a lot of things
that would make a square turn blue.
One of their favorite subjects
is Anatomy.
Clowns are amusing.
Clowns think they're cool
but they're really nothing
but a big Joke.


See the Freak.
He is very "out of it."
A typical freak usually is "out of it."
His pupils are dilated
and he walks around in a daze
and he always wears long sleeve shirts.
Freaks are not the type of people
you would want your daughter to marry.
A freak can be a useful person.
He can even be Hardworking and Respectable
when he is not stoned.
Even then, however, a freak can be useful.
Freaks usually grow up to find work
in Pharmacies.


See the Teacher.
Teachers sometimes try to be cool
growing long sideburns and mustaches
and slicking their hair back -
which comes from watching too much "Happy Days."
Other teachers don't attempt to be cool
and shave their heads bald
and give you lots of homework
and never let you know their first name.
Teachers are strange.
(But then, so's everyone in Sentinel.)
I say, never trust any teacher
over 17.


See the Square.
A square is like a straight
only worse.
A Square has no comprehension
of what is really "going on."
A square loves to study
and do homework on anything -
except Anatomy.
Squares never use profanity
or smoke or drink.
Squares usually grow up to be scientists
and make startling discoveries
that benefit nobody.


See "Joe Cool."
His type of people are called Jocks.
They are also called a lot of other things
that aren't very nice to say here.
A Jock is a sports maniac
and a cigarette maniac
and a kegger maniac -
not necessarily in that order.
A definition of a Jock is: 
"Something to hold your nose up with."
A jock walks around school
with his head held up high
(scraping tiles off the ceiling)
and acting very cool
because he knows
he isn't.


See the Hood.
A Hood is just another name
for Juvenile Delinquent
armed to the teeth
with "equalizers" of various sorts.
A girl hood is called
a Hoodette.
Hoods like to make trouble.
(They also like to make out.)
They want to build a New World
by tearing this one down first.
They demolish everything in sight
which gives them three things:
A sense of accomplishment,
Personal satisfaction,
and a Police record.

 
See this person? 
He is different from all the rest.
He is not a Straight
or a Jock 
or a Freak
or a Square. 
He is in a group 
that only has one member. 
He is known as 
a Darrell Harvey.
People in this group
think they know all about all the other groups
but they really don't.
Nobody wants to be 
a Darrell Harvey
and I don't blame them.
 


Junior year, you passed it out to classes for discussion (before it was published in the 1975 Bitterroot Yearbook) attributing it to "Jeff Truzzi." Where did you get that name? I went on line a decade ago as Jeff Truzzi, and use it to this day on Facebook. That's who my worldwide friends know me as.

So many memories. Eating lunch with you and a couple of other students. You'd eat bread slices and talk about your VW beetle ("They're great, just don't get hit") and Sanford & Son. Recording and producing a student mini Rock Opera. Editing your 8mm home movies from Hawaii together.

"American Studies" with you and Nancy Walters was a two hour class covering English and Civics requirements, for 'advanced' students. I felt out of my depth, insecure, and was enduring major family trauma at home. (I left home a year later, living with the family of Gerry Bishop, aka "that loser.") You steered me through writing a college type term paper. You tolerated my excuses and my missed deadlines. And you gave my paper - on Thomas Paine and the American ideology - the highest marks in the class. I'm not sure it deserved it, but that was a huge and pivotal boost to my self confidence at a critical time.

I reentered that class during the final quarter, and participated in two fun, fascinating, and ultimately disastrous class video projects. Let's just say our aspirations far outstripped our technical knowledge. Yet you still gave us all A's for the effort.

I ran the A-V department during the 1975 summer school, being paid for 4 hours of a 6 hour day. I also took 4 classes of English, one I attended and three of your 'independent study.' You gave me classic books to read, like "Moby Dick." We discussed them briefly, and I asked when I'd take the tests. You replied: "You just did."

Senior year was amazing! Other than 'senior math' (my worst subject) I only had classes I really dug: the yearbook, the newspaper, symphonic band, jazz band. No longer living at home, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from me. Free at last!

Thanks to you and others, I was one of four statewide NCTE writing winners. There was a blurb in the city paper about it. The next day, as I walked through school, it seemed like every third or forth person was saying "Hey man!" or "Hi Darrell." Three years earlier I was a friendless nobody cowering behind the paint, and now this? It was a gradual process, the extent of which was made evident that day.

Our school paper "The Konah" had a contentious relationship with the administration (as did you teachers, who went on strike the following year.) A sarcastic piece I'd written worried Nancy Walters enough that she asked me to show it to principal Harbaugh before publication. So I sat in his office as he read my fictional piece where teachers, knowing they were being eavesdropped on (a nod to your first year) were insincerely saying: "Gee, I really like it here." "Gee, I really like my job." "Gee, principal Bilgewater's not such a prick after all." Sitting across from the principal as he winced reading the word 'prick' (which I changed to 'jerk') was a peak moment for me. A moment that happened because of you.

Having as many students and as long a career as you've had, you may not remember most of this. I sure do.

I dropped out of college to work in TV, played in a rock band, and moved back to my ancestral home of San Diego. I SHOULD have died in Berlin, November 1990 (the day before unification) from getting hit by an East German Trabant. The ER doctor said, "If dis vas an Audi, you vould be dead." Every moment since has been 'extra,' a gift I don't take for granted. My studio bio is decent. "The Usual Suspects" is a good movie. Blink 182's "Enema Of The State" has sold 16 million. I've had a great and rewarding life, a lot of fun. And it is largely thanks to you. Thank YOU, Arnold Lipkind.

PLEASE retire, for glob's sake! You can only postpone retirement for so long. (Your pic looks great, by the way.)

Sincerely,

 - Darrell Harvey
Class of 1976, Sentinel High School, Missoula Montana