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Years ago, the Art teacher at the coastal high school where I was also a teacher for thirty years asked the Biology teacher to pick up a special-order book for her while she was shopping at Powell’s Book Store in Portland. (I was not that Art teacher—I taught Art in Washington State—this was Sandy, the reason I went on to teach English.) Diane drove 80 miles over the coast range to Powell’s and was horrified to discover that there was a nude on the cover of the book. Yes, a naked man! Michelangelo’s David. She was embarrassed to be seen with the book. No, I am not kidding.

