Queen paradoxically eases into one of the contempt free folds of my brain. Traditionally, Queen would seem to be the type of fare I'd waggle my sack at. Breezing by VH1 Classics and "Fat Bottomed Girls" kept this stoner's attention and goofily hollering along with, much to the chagrin of my upstairs neighbor. Figures they'd follow up Queen with Culture Club. Thou wearest yon pride of being clever brazenly on thine's visage like a sun god's auric faceplate, didst thou receiveth thine's televisual programming post amongst a box of Crackerjacks?

At U.City's McKnight Grade School, Queen was always a highlight of my day.

One of the dopest teachers I have ever know, Mr. Graves, handled the gym. Built like a linebacker, towering figure with a calming amicable face. He had a Sta Puft fro, that had awesome dents in it when he took off his shiny electric yellow mesh baseball cap. Never seen without his whistle dangling from his neck. All the kids looked up to Mr. Graves, literally and figuratively.

Mushball and bombardment. Two forms of dodgeball that Mr. Graves had us always play for gym and when the weather didn't cooperate recess. He'd rock either "We Are The Champions", "Another One Bites The Dust", or "We Will Rock You" on his portable rekkid player for the perfect soundtrack to our red rubber ball warfare. Mushball was the greatest cause it encompassed the entire gym. One ball, every kid for themselves. If you got hit you were out, no safe catches. Wherever the ball was next picked up you were only allowed three steps in any direction before you threw the ball to knock somebody out. When it came down to the last five standing, the playing field was whittled down to the basketball tipoff center circle painted into the oak. Awesome fucking game.

Mr. Graves was equally as pissed when the soggy loaves of limp leftwing bread replaced the compact, perfect for throwing, red rubber balls with the gentler hippy-ass Nerf soccerballs. He could still skyrocket the Nerf alien surplants into the clouds, kicking them straight up. That was always cool, we kids watched like it was a pyrotechnic display.

They shut down the school the year after I was to leave for U.City's Brittany-Woods Middle School. Figures they would take the low income oasis away from the kids. Best grade school in the county, so great that they reserved it for the school distict's administration offices. Fuckers.

Hopefully Mr. Graves is keeping his black dick hard in this cruel white man's world. He deserves decent life stuff, he was kind to kids that desperately needed it. Christ, he was a father figure for some of those hoodrats. Plus, he dispensed an hour of uber satisfying superhero battlefield antics every weekday, rain or shine. At least that's how my geek freak imagination saw it. Thanks Mr. Graves.