That’s right, sports fans, I have once again rammed the ol’ cranium up against the proverbial brick wall. Four good starts on this week’s column and nothing to really show except four three-paragraph dead ends, at least for now. And deadline looms. What to do, what to do… After much thought (not really), I have decided to pack together a whole string of odds and ends for you to pick through, if you so desire— flotsam and jetsam, as it were. Ideas not long enough for a column, musical bits and pieces, brain farts and the like. Indeed, I looked up the term “flotsam and jetsam” on thefreedictionary.com just to make sure that I had the term right and, for once, I did. “Useless or discarded objects,” it said. “Odds and ends.” Well, I hope I stay away from the former, but the latter seems to fit. Just remember— no overlying theme. Whatever comes to (my) mind.
Archive for Cruisin’
Frank Gutch Jr: Flotsam and Jetsam, plus Notes…..
Posted in Opinion with tags Amanda Anne Platt, Artistic Records, Chloe Albert, Corvallis High School Band, Country artists, Cruisin', DBAWIS, dirtmusic, Don't Believe a Word I Say, Drew Gibson, Dublin Bottling Works, Frank Gutch Jr., H. Owen Reed, Hank Williams, History of Country Music, Homegrown, Indie Artists, Indie Music, KGB, Kim Grant, Lee Cash, Little Lonely, Motown Story, music, Music Radio, music videos, Picture The Ocean, Records, Spooky Tooth, The Critters, The Honeycutters, The Weaver Twins, The Winterpills., Tops Records, Turnstyled Junkpiled, Zoe Muth on April 1, 2014 by segariniSegarini: Stockton, Daring-Do, and Cruisin’ the Miracle Mile: Part Five – The Car, The Cool, The Cruise
Posted in Opinion with tags Art Jacobs, Cherry Cola's, Cruisin', DBAWIS, Don't Believe a Word I Say, Glenn Gallup, Lincoln High, Merced Blue Notes, music, Pacific Avenue, segarini, Stagg High, Stockton Ballroon, Stockton California, The Miracle Mile on February 5, 2013 by segarini
Part One can be found here
Part Two can be found here
Part Three can be found here
Part Four can be found here
There are fewer things more important to a 16 year old boy than passing his driving test and getting a car of his own. Sex with a partner instead of the Palm Sisters would be about the only thing that would vie for his attention that could be more distracting. By 16 I had already traded up from the mono-date to much more rewarding experiences thanks to an ‘older woman’ who chased me around the house I was living in until I let her catch me, and some truly adventurous girls closer to my own age. So, at 16, the most important thing on my mind had four wheels and started with a key and not a kiss on the neck….
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Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 