This week has been a difficult one. An anniversary of a tragic event in California, the insanity of millions of people blindly following a completely failed human being and giving nary a thought to his worthlessness, and a continuing nostalgia-driven blockade of great new music and artists by those who actually believe nothing of worth has been created since the end of the ’70s.
This is the seventh annual printing of a column I wrote in tribute to my father for Father’s Day. I miss my parents a lot, and I never got to thank my dad for all he tried to teach me, all he tried to instill in me. If your parents are still alive, your grandparents, even your aunts and uncles. call them up today, tell them you love them, and cherish the ability you have to tell them first hand. Someday, they will all be gone, and even though you will hear their voices and feel their presence for the rest of your life, there will be times when you experience a longing, and an ache so profound, that you will wish with all your heart you could see them again and let them know how much they meant to you. Family is more important than any other aspect of your life…don’t ever forget it.
Happy Fathers Day, Pop…I miss you…and I love you.
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My annual Mother’s Day Tribute to my Mom. I wish you all could have met her….
As most adopted children can tell you, one of the first things you remember being told is how you were chosen to be part of your adopted family, not a random act of passion borne to fruition by parents who sometimes weren’t really trying to make a baby. Any time this information was imparted on an adopted child, it was meant to soothe and/or dispel any doubts the child had of being loved or being perceived as an ‘outsider’.
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One of the first things you remember being told is how you were chosen to be part of your adopted family, not a random act of passion borne to fruition by parents who sometimes weren’t really trying to make a baby. Any time this information was imparted on an adopted child, it was meant to soothe and/or dispel any doubts the child had of being loved or being perceived as an ‘outsider’.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 