MISS MALLOY. “Are you thinking of making a pass, Miss Malloy.” Wow. Two amazing characters in one song. A genuine twofer. First of all there’s Mr. Summersby. That would be the infamous Uncle Mal. Gone but never forgotten. Still number one in our hearts. The only manager Robert James ever had. That english bloke from Bromley Tech. Any highlight would include sitting in on a conversation between Uncle Mal with his thick english accent and my former roommate Dominique, who was as French Canadian as they come. Marianne Faithful had a song called ‘Broken English’. I’d often translate. Dominique: “How you are today, Paul …” Malcolm: “Why does he keep calling me Paul?” Me: “He’s trying to say Pal not Paul …” Words like pal came out sounding like Paul. Umm, he’s trying to say pal … Onto the star of our show. The wonderful Miss Malloy. Let’s flash back to grade eight. And a town called Sherwood Park. Doesn’t matter where it is. Everybody has one. My science teacher. I sucked at science but I attended regularly. And this is funny shit. You can’t make this up. Her name was Miss Robinson. My first older woman crush. Thoughts of rescuing her from a burning schoolroom. Things like that. I’ll always remember her glowing after watching me on television for the first time. It was cowboy music but she loved it. She dropped a bombshell on the class near the end of the school year. Our Miss Robinson was getting married. I was devastated. But time has a way of marching on. We moved that summer, the family re-united once again. And that shy little kid that sang on television was about to discover the guitar. Sadly, no Miss Malloy to teach him. And so Miss Malloy sits comfortably in the number three slot. This song is a bit of a departure for me in terms of style. I was going for a sixties brit feel. Something laid back so Miss Malloy can kick off her shoes and put her feet up on her desk. Ah, the perks of being a teacher. Being a Miss Malloy. Where class is alway in vogue and in session … xoRJ