There are many things that appeal to me about the music of Neil Young. Always have. I first became a Young man when I saw my first concert in 1986 at the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto. I was hooked. Dozens of concerts would follow.
I don’t know what appealed to me the most — Neil’s gritty Rock and Roll riffs, his melodies, the beautiful musicianship, or his wonderfully irreverent attitude. It didn’t hurt that he was from Northern Ontario like me. I could feel the connection.
As I grew older, I knew that I would always be a Young man.
I am passionate about education and love teaching after 32 years. As I began my teaching career, it was only natural that I would work Neil into my program. His flippant attitude mirrored mine. That was great for connecting with kids, but it did not always endear me to my bosses. I was teaching 5th grade at the time. I began playing Neil in the background during art class as my students were working on their assignments. They loved it. Then I taught my choir “Rockin’ in the Free World”. We sang it at the Spring Assembly. But instead of the lyrics “don’t feel like Satan”, I had to change it to “don’t feel like Santa”. I didn’t want to upset The Man.
During a Remembrance Day ceremony, my class sang Neil’s version of “Imagine” along with a video of Neil at the 9/11 memorial. The gym was in total darkness except for the video and my kids, all with candles. They had t-shirts with peace signs on them and headbands signifying peace and love. It was a very emotional moment. My students would never forget it.
Later on that year, my Neil obsession continued as I put the slogan “Long May You Run” on our track-and-field t-shirts. It was a big hit, especially with my fellow coaches from other schools who loved Neil.
Finally, my principal’s patience ran out when I requested the song “Piece of Crap” at a school dance. The expression caught on throughout the school as the students were now becoming fully indoctrinated into my Neil Young mindset. A teacher would say, “It’s time to take out your math textbooks”. The kids would answer, “That’s a piece of crap”. Or one of the staff would remind them about the “no hats in the school” rule. Again, the answer from my students would contain the phrase “piece of crap”.
It was getting totally out of hand. I silently smirked. When I finally got called into the office, I was ready. My principal said he knew the kids loved my rock and roll attitude, but I would have to cut it back. “Forever a Young man”, I said. “This attitude is bigger than you and me. It will never fade away. Like the song says, Rock and Roll will never die.” To this day, it never has. My attitude, my approach to teaching, my outlook on life. I will always be a Young man.
