The next three months is really a series of stories, but I will try to make it brief. I decided that since we had an agent, since I was finished graduate school (for all practical purposes), and since I longed to live at least near a city again, that I should totally move out of Morgantown. In reality I had few possessions. Paul Puckett (not Gary Plucket) was our agent, an extremely successful country performer in Fairfax, Virginia. We played our (long term) gig at a Greek restaurant in Fairfax. The owner's girlfriend wanted us to play "Peg in my Heart" which, of course, we didn't know. We played a folky bluegrass combination with some pop song thrown in- all three part harmony - of course. The owner was not not pleased. When Paul arrived, we had been fired and were packing up. He talked the owner into at least having us finish out set and getting paid for it.
We sat in George's kitchen in Fairfax, Virginia. George was Jack's (our guitar player) cousin. George was a local contractor and was committed to helping us get another gig. He called many of his connections and we called clubs and bars all over Northern Virginia. An ex-client of his, Mrs. Mallick, expressed interest. George warned us. "You have to be really careful with this woman. She is charming but she can really rip you off." We were warned. She booked us for one night at the Cedar Knoll Inn on George Washington Parkway for dinner. .. One night in the dining room for $100 plus tips. We played our gig- a lovely high class restaurant near Mount Vernon, Virginia. She said she wanted to hire us, long term. Jack went back with his cousin. Karen and I spent the night in a back room of the dinner theater. Karen was freaked out by the place, but I felt fine. Eventually Jack and Karen decided to go back to Morgantown to "regroup" and join me later. They never did. I worked every possible job at Cedar Knoll Inn- waiter, gardener, bartender, short order cook and dinner theater manager. I was a slave in this never never land, where the owner kept the visas of maybe 20 workers from Guatemala and India. Every evening I would play for 2 or 3 hours after I waited on tables. I was well liked but never paid. I lived in the international dormitory above the restaurant. I finally left after the notorious owner skipped town when promising to pay me at the same time. It is a long story, which I will tell at some other time. But Mrs. Mallick sent me my money, which I received the day before I was to appear in court.
I performed at the newly opened Holiday Inn during cocktail hour on a regular basis, then waited on tables after the gig. I was a substitute teacher in Alexandria, Virginia teaching music and art (as a substitute). I worked at the "Coffee House" a coffee emporium in Alexandria. I sang on a regular basis at the Warehouse, a pub in Alexandria. And finally I landed a CETA job in Alexandria teaching Adult GED preparation. My class was mostly African American and we had our classroom in the Practical Arts room (back room) at George Washington High School. My schedule was ideal. I taught from 1 PM to 5 PM, earned enough for a single man in a one bedroom apartment and my student were eager to learn. The curriculum was Algebra, US History and a smattering of Science and Social Studies from High School. We graduated about seven students our first year, a great success.
I had a girlfriend at that time. She loved organic gardening and French intensive method and so on. We were going to move to Athens, Georgia- not too far from our family but close to a cousin and the oasis of liberalism in Georgia. After many conversations we chose to live in Sacramento, California. In the winter of 1978 we thought of living in Sacramento. In reality, after driving across country and meeting my Aunt and Uncle, we decided to stay in the San Francisco Bay Area, more specifically Berkeley. Mary Ellen got a job in San Francisco in June. " I can't believe how cold it is there." In Berkeley I did not know what she was talking about. I got a job with Nona interviewing children about their experiences with fire. This job, a wonderful job, lasted about two years.
The grants were spent and I looked to San Francisco for work. I worked demeaning temporary jobs-I worked for Jim Scott, painting houses on high ladders. Jim never paid me. Jim, Jim, are you there? PAY ME!!! $800. Can I mention Xerox? I had the most demeaning idiot boss at a Xerox shop in San Francisco. All the rest is lost. I found a temporary home at the University of San Francisco in the Business and Finance Department- a family... Hi! Joan. Even though the pay was low, I loved working in this strange paper laden office in the Accounts Payable Department. I even uncovered an employee (friend) who was embezzling money.
I transfered across the park, University of California, San Francisco, Department of Biochemistry, Purchasing Office. It was a good salary and I worked myself up from delivering packages to paying bills (big deal!). I worked at UCSF for about 5 and loved many things about it. I loved the intellectual atmosphere. I loved rubbing elbows with the professors, some of whom became friends. I loved going to Asilomar for retreats and listening to workshops in Biochemistry that were always just a little over my head. I love the congenial office atmosphere and "Crazy Bill" from Santa Cruz. Nevertheless, I was almost fired by my boss, who introduced me to cocaine, because (in my humble opinion) I came close to uncovering his embezzlement of funds from the taxpayers. (by the way, his name was John Glennon . Do not hold it against him. He has served several years in prison (I think). Accept the last two sentences only as hear say.
My future wife wanted me to work as something more than a "clerk". We both had a B.A. in Sociology. But she had gone another year to get both a nursing degree and a Masters in Nursing. She agreed to work while I got my teaching credential. I graduated from San Francisco State and the next year worked at DeAnza High School in Richmond, California. Actually, I worked for the next ten years in first the Richmond Unified School District, then in the West Contra Costa Unified School District. I found a family of teachers and students who were mostly wonderful and the tough ones were not as tough as they played. All children, but some bad children. I worked at DeAnza, then at Delta Continuation School, then at Middle College High School. Each place could be a wonderful book in itself. I loved my teaching job at Middle College so much but by my third year we had moved 60 miles to the north and I got tired of the commute.
To keep my promise, I will end shortly. I have been teaching at Analy High School in Sebastopol for about eight years. I will leave my journal of those experiences in another entry.
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