It’s confession time. Some of my devoted readers are not going to like it. It’s related to my disdain for certain genres of music so if you’ve got a strong constitutional defense for the music you love you may want to read the ‘New Yorker’ in your smoking jacket instead. Or track down re-re-re-runs of the Grand Ol’ Opry on TVland. I’m a dyed-in-the-wool music snob. I have no patience or interest in Jazz, The Blues or Country music.
Full disclosure. I don’t do Country music. I’ve never been a fan of those Good Ol’ Boys singing – through their noses, I might add – about dogs and bar fights and pick-up trucks and hurtin’ songs about how a good woman gone done them wrong or some endless road trip of wide open spaces carrying a rack full of guns because: FREEDOM!
Shari Ulrich, in her latest blog, talks about the future from a perspective of the past, her point being that she had not even an inkling of what was to happen while it was even happening. To live in the present is, in essence, to live in the future because time has no on and off buttons. Every second we live is another second into the future and another second away from the past. We experience it on an ongoing basis, the seconds ticking away into minutes and then hours and then days and then weeks until we are at a point we stop (though it never really stops) and look back, wiping our brows and wondering, where did it all go? And wish that we had maybe paid more attention.
I was saddened by the death of Annette Funicello back in March. Unlike most of the male members of my age, I did NOT have a crush on Annette. That honour usually fell to toothy grinned Mousekateer Cheryl Holdridge (who in 1964, became a real-life Countess when she married Woolworth heir Lance Reventlow – his father was a Danish nobleman). Sometimes friendly Darlene Gillespie became my Mousekateer crush of the day or week, depending on my mood and my hormones. Turns out, Darlene was born in Montreal and her parents were originally from Saskatchewan, but I didn’t know any of that watching our little black and white TV set then.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 