Little Bobby’s Childhood in Pictures Words and Music

 

Ahhh, February.

A flat tire on the way to Spring.

A bone chilling extra inning of shitty weather, gloomy skies, weak coffee, and runny noses. A period of time best survived by curling up on the couch with a box of alcohol, something to read, and at least one or two critters asleep on top of you generating heat, an occasional purr, and an excuse to remain on the couch as long as you can as to not disturb them.

Just think of this as something to read while you’re all scrunched up on the couch under the kitties or puppies,  a Scrapbook of sorts. One that comes with its own soundtrack and a picture of crabs.

You’re welcome.

Segarini: Time Machine Part Two

I was either 8 or 9 years old. Young enough to do something stupid because, at that age, we all consider ourselves to be immortal, but old enough to take some precautions, which in this case meant removing the sheets and blankets from my bed and dragging the mattress through the house into the back yard and positioning it next to the garage in my mother’s peonies and petunias. I was fearless…I wasn’t even afraid of The Wrath of Mom….

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JAIMIE VERNON – CHILDHOOD: THE BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE

I had every intention of writing a Compact DISCovery column this week – featuring great releases by the J. David Band, Mena Hardy, David Ward, The Well Wishers, Focal Points and Kris + Dee – and comment on the ongoing controversy concerning NPR intern Emily White’s theft of 11,000 MP3’s. But on Thursday I got news that one of my oldest friends, Jim, lost his father. It’s amazing how one’s ancient memory recall fires up instantly like an old reliable automobile at the mere mention of a past acquaintance. Time has erased the specifics of our first meeting, but Jim and I agree that we started hanging out together when we were seven years old – some 42 years ago.