Don’t Believe A Word I Say with Bob Segarini

The Weekend Roundup for December 11^th 2009

Holiday Memories! The First List! A&R Online!…and the Usual Weekend Roundup Amusements!

Holiday Memory Number One…

Yesterday I saw a homeless guy in a Santa hat passed out in a doorway. He had a light dusting of snow on him and was running in place, like he was dreaming about chasing a car. I stopped for a second, wondering if I should wake him up because the wind was kicking up and it was getting really cold. I needn’t have worried. Just about the time I had decided to give him a tentative kick on the bottom of one of his running shoes, a very attractive woman in her 30’s came around the corner carrying two cups of coffee, pulled up short and yelled at him.

“DAD!!!”

The old guy sat up with a start and blinked himself awake. “Dammit, Punkin’, you scared the shit out of me.”

I quietly hoped he wasn’t being literal.

Then his daughter noticed me standing there. “What are you looking at?”, she challenged. “Uhh…I thought he might need to get out of the cold before he gets sick, or uhh…maybe find a shelter…homeless people have frozen to death when it gets really co…” She looked at me like Homer looks at Ned Flanders. ‘What are you, a fucking Boy Scout? He’s not homeless, he’s drunk. I had to pick him up at his office party because his secretary called me and said if I didn’t, she was going to shove him out a window. Same thing every year. He throws a party for his staff, gets drunk, and ends up making a fool of himself and pissing everybody off.”

“Oh.”, I said, chastised. “I thought…”, She stopped me with a look that made me afraid of her. “Don’t think, just help me pick him up, or hold the coffee.”

I helped him to his feet. “Thanks Carl, nice job this year, fine job”, he said.

Who the fuck is Carl?

She handed him one of the coffees and gave me a cursory ‘thanks’, took her father by the arm, and guided him down the street past me. “Merry Christmas”, I shouted at them through the wind. “Whatever”, she shouted back, and they walked down the block. Well Screw-iddly you-diddly, I thought. The old man started singing Jingle Bells as they disappeared from view.

I wished I was that drunk.

Holiday Memory Number Two…

New Years Eve, 1969. Roxy had just finished a set somewhere in Hollywood, and we were on our way back to our house in Laurel Canyon to party and welcome the new decade. We stopped at Hugh’s Market on the way to buy some alcohol, chips, and dip. It was about 11:30, plenty of time. I grabbed a bottle of Jack and a jeroboam of cheap champagne. The other guys were running around getting their favourite libations and I got in the line.

The line was long.

While I was standing there, I reflected on the year behind us like I do every year. It had been a hectic one. My life had changed completely in the last 12 months. A long time relationship had ended, (she ran off with my dope dealer), and a new one which would last almost 30 years had begun. I no longer lived in Stockton, but in the Canyons of Laurel, and I was on a new label, had a new band, and a new LP. The great Charley Manson Scare had finally died down, Nixon hadn’t blown us all to smithereens yet, and, after a year of turmoil and change, things were looking pretty good. I smiled.

The line lurched forward.

I looked behind me. The line now stretched into the baked goods section of the store. A couple of the guys waved to me from the tail end of it. I motioned them to join me up towards the front. They declined. Apparently they had had their lives threatened when they tried to move up behind me when they first got their booze.

The line inched forward and I went back to daydreaming.

I thought about touring again, about recording another album. I remembered nights out with friends that were becoming famous, and wondered if we were going to join them in the new year. I remembered that a year ago, when everything had fallen apart, I felt like nothing good would ever happen again. It was a familiar feeling this time of year.

I was almost to the front of the line.

It will be nice to start the year surrounded by good friends, celebrating, and looking forward to the opportunities ahead. Great way to start the new year, I thought. It bodes well. They say that your surroundings and company at the stroke of midnight usually predict the year, or in this case, the decade, to come.

I got to the check out and put my purchases on the counter. As I did so, a great whoop went up from behind me. I heard noisemakers. I looked up. Both hands on the clock over the cash register pointed straight up.

1970!

I am starting the new year and decade in a liquor store, surrounded by drunks.

Holiday Memory Number Three…

New Year’s Eve, 1986…

Unless I was playing, I usually liked to stay home on New Year’s Eve, because I always had believed that it was the night all the amateurs drank. I had seen things at New Year’s Eve gigs that…well…no one should ever have to see. This year, however, I figured we could go out and have a great time, safe in the back of a rented stretch limo. Cheryl and I were going to a big party and making the rounds, and I had hired a limousine to pick us up and take us around town in comfort and safety. It pulled up in front of the house, and we carefully walked down across the lawn to the street. It had been snowing, then raining all day, but the rain had stopped several hours ago and the sky had cleared. It was, however, very, very cold.

I was wearing a suit and a nice, warm overcoat. Cheryl looked absolutely beautiful in her favourite dress and an awesome fur coat my mother had given her. We looked like we could have been on the cover of Vanity Fair. Especially Chuck…she looked amazing.

We reached the limo. Feeling chivalrous, I waved the driver back inside the car, and opened the rear door for Cheryl. I bowed behind the door, closing my eyes for just a second.

She took one step and disappeared from view.

Like magic.

Like David fucking Blaine.

I looked around. She was nowhere to be seen. I looked behind me, in front of me, back up towards the house, and over the roof of the car.

No Cheryl.

“Bob?”, Cheryl’s voice. Ethereal. Distant.

“Cheryl?”

“Bob?” Cheryl’s voice again sounding far away, yet close, somehow. Now, I’m beginning to think there had been a rift in the space-time continuum, and she had fallen through it into a parallel universe.

“Where are you?” I asked, my skin tingling in anticipation of a religious experience, or possible alien abduction.

“I’m right here,” came her muffled response, “Help me.”

I looked down. Sticking out from under the limo were the high heeled shoes she had been wearing.

“I see your shoes,” I said, wondering if your clothes fell off when you passed into the other universe.

“They’re still on my feet. Help me, dammit!”

I looked again. It was dark. My eyes focused.

Yep. She was under the car. “What is she doing under there?” I thought to myself.

I leaned down and took a hold of her feet. She slid out from under the limo easily, kind of like a puck on an air hockey table.

No magic.

Just ice.

I knew if I laughed, I was a dead man.

Holiday Memory Number Four…

Christmas, 2008…

Pie and I had been laid off on the same day back in April. We had used the last of our savings to pay December and part of January’s rent.

Our last few Christmases had been a lot of fun, with each of us buying the other lots of little gifts, going out to dinner, or having our friends who were without family over for a big dinner and party. This year would be different.

On Christmas eve, Pie made her usual trip to Mississauga to have dinner and visit with her grandparents,  dad and mom, open presents with them, and return  home and beg me to let her open a present. This year, there were just a couple of small gifts, and we decided to wait until morning.

Pie had put decorations on the fake trees I’d bought years ago for an old apartment that now resided in our kitchen, and hung pictures of Minnow and Bagel on the tree in little frames on ornament hooks. She displayed the Christmas cards we had received in and around the large room where our office, dining room, and kitchen were located. She would bring doggie bags back from her families homes, and we would have a nice dinner Christmas day.

In the morning, she woke me up around dawn, just as excited as she always is at Christmas, giggling and laughing, a bright and shining light in what had been a very difficult year. We made coffee, talked, and played with the kitties until she could wait no more. We exchanged gifts.

Later, we would eat a fine meal made from last night’s leftovers, and spend the day and evening talking and cracking wise, our worries put aside for the time being, and comforted by each other’s company.

Tonight, when I started to write this, Pie was sitting on the couch watching TV and I asked her what we got each other for Christmas last year. She couldn’t remember.

Neither can I.

We can’t remember what we had for dinner either.

Pie looked over at me and, with wisdom far beyond her years, said simply, “We had each other, that’s all that’s important.”

She is right.

As we face another potentially difficult year like so many other people, what she said resonates with truth. We have family and friends, Minnow and Bagel, and most importantly…each other.

Looks like another fine Christmas to me.

The Dreaded Year End Lists…

Well, I know I said I’d start these things last Monday, but it’s been a little hectic around here for the past week, and I just couldn’t find the time. Today, I have made time by foregoing my Thursday night television shows, dinner, and sleep. Remember, these are my personal opinions, not qualitive truths. Share any year end lists you want to make by sending them to me at segarini@fyimusic.ca and put “Year End Lists” or something similar in the subject header. I look forward to reading and printing them here.

So, without further ado, let the lists begin…

2009 ‘s Ten Television Shows That Make Me Want To Grind the TV Into Mulch and Feed It to Simon Cowell

10. Scrubs: Damn it, this show was cancelled. Cancelled! Why anybody would bring it back is beyond me. I successfully avoided most of its last 2 runs, and I will continue to wash my hair every time this one rears its mindless little head. If anything, it is the new Wings.

09. Accidentally On Purpose: If Jenna Elfman was a stripper, I’d watch her all the time. If this latest committee written hiccup tanks like Dharma and Greg, maybe she’ll finally become one.

08. Dr. Phil: Phuck off. Lucy Van Pelt gives better advice to Charlie Brown and it only costs a nickel.

07. Larry King Live: The only thing Larry needs is a drool cup and someone to tell him that the people he interviews have done interesting or important stuff, that’s why they’re on his show.

06. The Office: Like the characters in Seinfeld, if I were trapped in an elevator with these people, I would be in jail awaiting trial on several counts of murder. In a perfect world, no jury would convict me.

05. George Lopez: Sitcom, Talk Show, whatever. Somebody please do a one off special with George, Dane Cook, and Jim Belushi called Shark Tank Feeding Frenzy. That, I’ll watch.

04. House: I know, I know. Like a lot of the other shows on this list, House is very, very, popular. So is McDonalds. I have the taste for neither.

03. Oprah: God help us if she ever decides to run for President. I can’t shake the feeling that she is the advanced scout for an alien race of control freak librarians. I might reconsider if she gives me a car.

02. Survivor: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, If this is entertainment, then why don’t they just do a show that will be even cheaper to produce. Trap 10 starving people, (or the cast of any one of the shows on this list), in an elevator with a bucket of chicken, one Diet Coke, and a gun. Reality show ratings indicate that it would be the biggest show in television history.

01. Hell’s Kitchen/American Idol: I’ll watch Hell’s Kitchen when Ramsay’s poor interns Ginzu his ass and he becomes the main ingredient in a stew, or a bunch of sausage links. I’ll watch American Idol when Simon Cowell apologizes, and goes back to England after he releases all those poor kids from their indentured slavery contracts.

Monday: 2009’s Best Television Shows…

A&R Online Volume 40: You can hear this show by going to http://www.radiothatdoesntsuck.com/myWimpy.html and click on ‘A&R Online Volume 40’

Next week brings the first of two Christmas A&R Onlines’, followed by New Year’s Eve’s A&R Onlines’ Best of 2009. This weeks is a potpourri of the latest releases that range from folk, to rock, to pop, to country.

Enjoy…

Pinup Saints-Mister: Pie and I saw this band at the Fazer Magazine launch party a couple of weeks ago. They were great. They’re from Montreal, but think ‘80’s Britpop with a kind of S&M sideshow thing going on and people that can sing and look sexy doing it, and dancersthat …well… seem like part of the band and not hired furniture. Lady Ga Ga take note…this is a song, sung by singers who actually are hot. Theatrical without a cast of thousands, overbearing production, or trying too hard. Check ‘em out further, here http://pinupsaints.blogspot.com/2009/03/videos.html

Aaliah Michaela-Letter to Your Heart: Watch out for this girl. She’s a good writer, she has a ton of poise, her and her family and manager are just as nice as can be, and this is just her first recording. The title track from her album, On the Radio, will show up here New Years Eve. The kicker? She’s 14 years old.

Nick Jonas and the Administration-Who I Am: It’s no secret that I like the Jonas Brothers, and this kid is one of the reasons I do. This side project of his sounds pretty good, and Nick channels a young Michael Jackson here without sounding imitative. I hope these kids grow into a real career. I think they’ve got the talent to break away from the Tweenie Bopper thing and make some pretty fine music. Fingers crossed.

Sans Harbour-Streets of Light and Laughter: Met these guys at the same Christmas party I met Aaliah Michaela at, thrown by George Rondina at his beautiful studio, Number 9 last week. They were a working band back when I was on the Toronto downtown circuit 30 years ago. When they told me they still recorded, I asked them to send me a track, which they did. I asked them how they still got together to record, and was told they didn’t. They record their own parts individually, send them to the next guy by ftp, and pass the tracks around until they’re finished. This is a great song and deserves to be heard. I could easily hear this on the radio, and probably would if these guys were as young as they sound. This is a great pop tune, couched in the sound of mid-sixties L.A without sounding dated. Such a shame that music is often judged by image and format, instead of the quality of the song, and the legitimacy of the performance.

Wolfmother-Don’t Let It Bring You Down: The Neil Young classic gets a fine reading from Wolfmother. How many great songs did that son of a bitch write, anyway?

One More Girl-Tumblin’ Tears: Another slick country record that rises above the pack with a great performance and a catchy tune. Actually two girls from out east. Nifty.

Rand Bishop-Getting’ What You Wish For Time: Not a new record, in fact, not a record at all. This is a demo sent to me yesterday by my old writing and performing partner, Rand, (don’t call him Randy), Bishop. One of the most consistant writers out there, a fine guitar player, and blessed with a great voice, Rand’s been writing terrific music since we were in Roxy and The Wackers together, and went on to write the most played record of 2003 in the U.S, Toby Keith’s My List. Somebody should put this out…it’s a hit.

Alan Jackson-It’s Just That Way: We wrap it up with one more country tune from one of the masters. If you haven’t already, grab a beer and a photo of the woman you love, or call her on the phone, or call her into the room. You’ll share a sweet moment together. This is that kind of song.

Win of the Week

The Frantics reception and show

Big, giant, honking fun. The Frantics are just as funny as they always were, and their comedy timing is unbelievably great. At one point in the show, a stoic Dan Redican got just as many laughs with his eyebrows and eyes as the babbling Rick Green standing next to him. It was like watching Jack Benny listen to a manic, young, Jerry Lewis. Ditto Paul Chato and Peter Wildman. These guys are classic writers, actors, and clowns. The Royal Air Farce’s Dave Broadbent left the theater with a big grin on his face, as did Yuk Yuk’s Mark Breslin. Eisner award winning comic book artist and writer Ty Templeton, who works with Rick Green on the ingenious Hoverboy project was also guffawing in the audience all night. Also spotted in the audience, Attic Records founder Al Maier, and legendary radio wizard, Doug Thompson.

I’m hoping this becomes a yearly event. This is timeless comedy, and the Frantics are timeless entertainers.

The reception before the show was also amazing. Joanne Smale and Planet 3 know how to throw a party…and where to throw it. A great little place next to the beautiful theater the show was in, College Street’s Royal, called the Sutra, a tiki bar complete with wicked cool décor and a patio whose floor is real sand, a beach in downtown Toronto. The food, (prosciutto wrapped breadsticks and mini pulled pork sandwiches, among other tasty treats), were from the Gaucho next door. We will be back to both places as soon as we can be…and congratulations and thanks to the Frantics for a great evening, and 30 years of great laughs.

Fail of the Week

Flight of the Conchords, an HBO series about two New Zealand naifs in New York will not be back for a third season.

Damn.

In the words of it’s two slightly twisted stars, “While the characters Bret and Jemaine will no longer be around, the real Bret and Jemaine will continue to exist,”

I’m gonna miss that show.

Parting Shot

The Isle of Theives free show at the Mod Club Saturday night was a hoot. Great band, great venue, and look at their fans…

and…

The first Christmas present of the year…

http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/reuters/091211/entertainment/centertainment_us_film_avatar

Oh boy, I can hardly wait.

Have a great weekend, see you on Monday…

That’s enough for now. Email me at segarini@fyimusic.ca with your comments, complaints, and thoughts…and remember…don’t believe a word I say.

Bob “The Iceman” Segarini was in the bands The Family Tree, Roxy, The Wackers, The Dudes, The Segarini Band, and Cats and Dogs, and nominated for a Juno for production in 1978. He also hosted “Late Great Movies” on CITY TV, was a producer of Much Music, and an on-air personality on CHUM FM, Q107, SIRIUS Sat/Rad’s Iceberg 95, (now 85), and now provides content for radiothatdoesntsuck.com with RadioZombie, The Iceage, and PsychShack. Along with the love of his life, Jade (Pie) Dunlop, (who hosts and writes “I’ve Heard That Song Before” on RTDS), continues to write, make music, and record.