If you had told me, twenty years ago, that this last decade would be one of the most terrifying/interesting/instructive/growth inducing periods of my entire life to date, I’d have laughed uproariously, and then kicked you out of the room.
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The end of the school year is fast approaching. As I take my son back and forth on what will be his final year in high school, I find myself drifting back in time to when we looked forward to summer break. My childhood was filled with great ones. In 1975 I took a two week trip west across Canada with my grandmother in her 1972 Skylark which changed my life, and my world view, for the better. That was almost completely undone when my parents attempted to take my sister and I on a similar trip to Canada’s East Coast in 1977. It was a study in stark contrasts on how not to travel with one’s family.
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Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 