As you read this I’m either on or about to go on stage for what is most certainly my 1,000th live musical appearance as the final act on the final night of David Bash’s long-running Toronto International Pop Overthrow Festival (this is year #10). I’ve been humiliating myself and faking musical talent in public since September 1980. Thirty-six years of looking for affirmation in all the wrong places.
They say that memories are built on intense emotional events – happy, sad or frightening. I have very few in the latter category which might be why the few I have are so vivid. Of course, these incidents are always the ones involving acts of, not bravery or heroism, but good old fashioned idiocy. Unlike the current crop of social media Jackass rejects there is no visual proof of my actions…thankfully.
When last we left our intrepid 12 year-old he was leaving the confines of his home Province for the first time ever with his Grandmother Vernon in her 1972 Skylark; excited and inspired to see what was beyond the moon-like terrain of Ontario on the historic Trans-Canada Highway.
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We continue this week with the second part to my vacation with my Grandma Vernon to celebrate the 40th anniversary of my awakening as a world traveler. We begin with a western push out of Sault Ste. Marie toward Thunder Bay, Ontario and BEYOND!
There is an old adage that says that you can’t go home again. It has a double meaning – not only can’t you relive the past but in many cases the places where the events in your past actually happened are no longer there.
Today I was supposed to deliver to you, my faithful readers, Chapter 2 of “Life’s A Canadian Rock Book 2: Turn On the Radio – The Moving Targetz Story”. As I started rifling through my old notes and half-written brainfarts I ran across something I’d completely forgotten I’d written and I thought to myself: “Self. Have you posted this on DBAWIS before?”
Honestly, I’m not sure. If you’ve seen it before, I apologize for repeating myself. If not, then you need to know that it’s the first section of a chapter 
in a future book about Bullseye Records that will explain how and why I ended up representing Greg Godovitz (pictured here with Jaimie and Mike Bullard) and Goddo for nearly 10 years. But this passage isn’t about either of those things, really…it’s about my lifelong knack for putting myself in harm’s way.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 