“Cat Stevens”

“‘I remember the first time I ever heard it,” he said, eyes closed, head leaning back against the well-padded, mint-green cushion. “I had meekly come over to pay a visit to the senior who lived next door to me. I was just a freshman then. We called him “Yak.” He was a brilliant, budding constitutional lawyer, a connoisseur of cannabis, and the host of a nightly gathering of free spirits drawn from both town and gown. Every aspect of that moment, when “Where Do the Children Play?” first sounded, fit together like the pieces of a fine Swiss watch. Two girls from the local high school lolled against some pillows on the far wall of his tiny bedroom. One of his roommates, a Buddhist psychologist who would later prove to have a major impact on my life, sat next to Yak, with his arms wrapped around his legs. A stick of strawberry incense wafted its sweet counter-cultural aroma into the close air. The acoustic guitar announced the song, then those statement bass chords, and finally the lyrics and that rich, compelling voice.'”