Up until a few hours ago I was about to post my column today, which was a 6000 word essay and reprints of comments, articles and facts, slaved over to make a simple point…
Donald Trump is not qualified to be the President of the United States, and Hillary Rodham Clinton is.
In 1967, the Song of the Year was “Canada” by The Young Canada Singers. I was a geeky, gawky Montreal teen with cats eye glasses and a bad perm. My season’s pass to Expo 67 made me feel like a citizen of the world.
But in Toronto, another kind of world was coming together; one of young, talented musicians who’d flocked to Yorkville to find fame, if not fortune.
Grant Fullerton was one of them.
We all know guys like this. They are rarely the main attraction in a crowded room. No, these are not the guys that walk into a room and immediately command attention. Rather, they are more akin to the charismatic head-turner’s wingmen; the more stealth-like companions to the stars, whose easy going charm and unassuming demeanor disarm those around them with quiet wit, dry conversation, and unheralded skills. These two individuals do not announce their presence with obvious flourish, nor do they seek either celebrity or adulation. They are like us; fans of music, looking to have a good time, and comfortable in their own skin. That is why, when they mount the stage and pick up their instruments and start performing, our jaws drop open and we see them fully for the first time. Our first thought? These guys are fucking amazing!
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 