Let me be clear. Bill Cosby never sexually attacked me.
But he had my ears.
Like many kids of my generation, long before iTunes, I remember listening to an album, on some black vinyl also called an LP, for “long play” because it played at 33 1/3 revolutions versus say 45 or 78, which of course, was the spins on the turntable of your record player.
We were poor, but we had a record player.
And after my sister finished playing her Marvin Gaye albums, I got to listen to my favorite: “Bill Cosby is a very funny fellow…Right!”
I liked that Bill Cosby. A lot.
He told stories about those “little tiny hairs on my face,” which even made a pre-pubescent boy like me laugh.
