Motivated by my favorite bands Rush, Van Halen and Led Zeppelin, I took up the drums at age 13. I started taking lessons and was immediately hooked on playing music, jamming with my friends after school and drumming along to my favorite songs. My drum teacher introduced me to the rudiments and jazz, and I developed musically and became a decent - but by no means great - drummer.

I played throughout college but never really went full-on until I graduated and decided I wanted to get more serious and put together a band. Around that time, I was living in San Francisco with one of my best friends and jamming buddies from growing up in Atlanta, and he had an acoustic guitar. I taught myself a few chords and immediately songs started coming out of me even though I could barely play the instrument. I would say that was the moment that I knew I wanted to make music on a serious level.

I had joined a local band on drums and was beginning to get more serious with them, playing bars around the Bay Area and Northern California as well as doing a few tours of Colorado. I spent most of my time during those years playing guitar five to six hours a day and constantly writing songs. The guitar and songwriting came to me much more naturally than the drums, and once I had gotten rhythm guitar up and running, I bought some scale books and started working on lead guitar trying to find the sounds of my heroes: Mark Knopfler, Jerry Garcia and David Gilmour.

After five years of constant practice, I was ready to switch to playing guitar and singing my songs in the bands I was in instead of playing drums, so I left the band I was in and started Seconds On End, where I learned to play live and in studio as well as produce and engineer records.

Photo courtesy of Andrew Thomases

My father was always very into classic rock when I was younger. He constantly had the radio on or albums on the turntable (yes, vinyl back then in the 70s). He got me hooked on The Beatles at a young age, but it was when he took me to see Beatlemania on Broadway when I realized I wanted to be like Paul McCartney.

After that show – maybe even on the drive home – I asked my dad if I could have his old bass guitar. He gave it to me, but I didn’t even have an amplifier. I figured out a way to plug it into our home stereo and I remember almost blowing out the speakers. I tried my hardest to teach myself, but, alas, I had no idea what I was doing.

Coincidentally, that summer I was headed off to summer camp for eight weeks. I took the bass guitar with me, but I didn’t have any specific plans to take lessons or even play. One of my friends, however, was excited to try out for the camp’s rock band as a lead singer. He came back all excited that he got the gig, but he said that the camp had a shortage of bass players. He had mentioned me to the head of the rock shop, but said I didn’t know how to play.

For as long as I can remember, I've been fascinated with the electric guitar. I remember my Grade 1 teacher telling me "no more making guitars" in art class. I'd use a ruler for the neck and whatever I could for the body and the head. After being told no more guitars, I literally made another guitar and tried to pass it off as an ax. I remember this as if it were yesterday. I can't remember what I ate for lunch, but I remember things like this. My parents caught onto my interest in music, but insisted I do a year of piano before trying guitar. After the year of piano was over, I no longer cared to play an instrument. I hated it. But only temporarily. I think I was only 5 or 6 years old, so it was hard to concentrate.

The moment I knew I wanted to be on stage for real wasn't until some years later. Again, I remember this as if it were yesterday. We were watching a music awards show on TV as a family and a band came on. The singer was beating his guitar like it owed him money, and every word he sang into the mic was accompanied with a shower of spit. I watched and listened in awe. I had never heard anything like it. I looked at my older sister and said, "Who is this?" She said, "Some band called Green Day." That was the moment I knew. I was in grade 6.

Before discovering Green Day, I was listening to the stuff passed down from my older sister, and what my parents were into. My parents used to blare Fleetwood Mac, Dire Straits and Michael Jackson. ALL FANTASTIC. My sister was blaring Guns N' Roses, The Doors, Metallica and Portishead. ALL FANTASTIC. The thing these all had in common to me, though, was that their musicianship was at a level that felt unachievable. There was no way I could even dream of being able to play the guitar riffs I was hearing from Metallica, Guns N' Roses and Dire Straits. But Green Day changed all of that. It was my introduction to punk rock, and I was sold.

On my 14th birthday, my mom bought me my first guitar. It was an acoustic, with action so high you could barely play a note, but it was a start. I banged away on that thing for the summer and then I decided I wanted an electric guitar. The only thing I had of any value was the dirt bike I had cut lawns for three summers to buy. I sold it and used the money to buy a Yamaha electric guitar with a 10 watt amp. I also bought a Nirvana Nevermind TAB book. This book taught me the most important thing you need to know when starting out: the power chord. It all snowballed from there. This was at the beginning of grade 8. I spent months in my room pretending to be Billie Joe Armstrong, and by the end of that school year, I had a band that played in the talent show. We played "Going To Pasalacqua" by Green Day. From what I remember, it didn't suck. Although I'm not 100% sure. Ha.

After I sold my dirt bike for a guitar, my best friend Luke (having no one left to ride with) sold his dirt bike too, and bought a drum kit. He and I have been playing music together ever since. You'll be able to hear him playing on some of my yet-to-be-released material. We started out as a punk band, and as we became more comfortable with our instruments, the music evolved. We started listening to some heavier stuff like Minor Threat and eventually Slayer. As we inched through high school, we started sounding more and more like a hardcore band. As well as writing original material, we were covering Minor Threat, Strife and One King Down. We had a pretty cool little scene happening in our high school with us and a few other bands renting out halls and putting on shows. Besides our hardcore band, there was a funk band, a punk band and a straight rock band that sounded like Tool and Smashing Pumpkins. In between each band, there would be a different DJ spinning records. It wasn’t until years later that I realized what a unique experience we’d created.

By the time high school was done, Luke’s brother, Josh, had joined the band and he started singing the majority of the leads while I focused on lead guitar and singing harmonies. He was Layne and I was Jerry. We were going to be the next Alice In Chains. We spent over a decade writing and recording music together. We toured Canada, recorded a demo in Los Angeles and shared the stage with some of our heroes. While this was happening, I was building a career as a cover artist playing bars, restaurants and whatnot. This seemed like the best way for me to pay the rent while pursuing our goals. Our band eventually called it a day, but we all still hang out together regularly.

This brings us to today. Ta da!

Thanks for reading,
Grant

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

I always wondered how people become followers of "cult bands". Well, well, well, here is the story of how I became just that.

I've seen The Flaming Lips live five times so far and it's going to be a lifelong ritual to see them every single time I possibly can. This story begins kind of dark though. On June 16, 2012, I had tickets to see Radiohead - instead, a terrible incident happened at Downsview Park in Toronto, Canada. While lined up outside with tickets in hand, eagerly waiting to get into the concert grounds, we watched parts of and heard the stage roof cave in from afar. What we didn't know at the time is that it had fallen onto members of the crew and ultimately killed their beloved drum technician and injured three other crew members. This information was not released to the public until days later, but all we knew was that ambulances were arriving on the scene and the concert had been indefinitely cancelled. Radiohead is not a band that tours very often, so not knowing about any injuries at that time, everyone waiting to get in to see their favorite band was devastated. Although we didn't know the extent of what happened, there was so much heaviness felt in the air from worry and disappointment. Before I move on with my story I want to take a moment to send my love and best wishes to everyone who suffered from this horrific incident, and love and respect to their beloved drum tech and family. Putting myself in that situation I can only imagine how horrifying and devastating an experience like this would be. There have been ongoing lawsuits since and I hope that the friends and families can be helped and find justice for this terrible event.

After this happened, about 10 people that I was going to the concert with walked to a nearby park. We sat and literally threw a ball around like we were all sad kinds from Charlie Brown. We then decided to look up what else in the city was going on and saw that The Flaming Lips were playing for free at Yonge and Dundas (If you don't know what that is, it's Toronto's take of Times Square). We all geared up and hopped on the subway to make it to that show on time. The air was heavy before The Lips hit the stage and somehow, looking around it felt collectively recognized. I knew only of The Lip's biggest songs - "Do you Realize" and the song from the Batman movie. With the knowledge of those two tracks I was actually really excited to see them play as I had zero expectations of what it was going to be like. Oh boy, now if you haven't ever been or seen what a Lips show looks like, be prepared, or don't be (cuz it's a fun surprise). You have never seen anything like it before nor will anything ever compare after. There will be the most colorful light shows you eyes have ever laid on, rainbow metallic confetti stuck in your clothes for months, frontman Wayne Coyne will be floating and singing around the crowd in a plastic bubble, the most intense synth and bass sounds injected into your veins, and overall there will be love felt so violently like you've never felt before. My senses were overloaded. The come down from a Lips concert sometimes takes days and it's wonderful. Wayne did mention his sorrow for the collapsed stage and his friends in Radiohead the night of that show as he knew that a lot of us had come over from that concert to this one. I cried so much that night for so many reasons. The emotions were just like the show, overloaded.

That concert was the first time my partner told me he was in love with me. Imagine a concert like what I've been telling you about, and on top of it, the young rush of love to make your heart flutter at a million miles per hour. I will forever connect my love for The Flaming Lips and their music to my still current love of 10 years. I cannot listen to a Lips song without hanging on to every sound and word as feelings of love are so deeply connected to the sounds. My first time seeing them was a beautiful, unforgettable snapshot that I cling to dearly in my life. Typing this out now I'm feeling choked up in my thoughts, thinking about that night and how emotions ran the gamut. I cried so hard and so much that night. I cried at my newfound admitted love. I cried worried about what happened back on that stage. I cried about life realizations, and I even cried holding strangers standing all around me that night. We all felt it. That night was one of those moments in life where you are in the moulting phases of being reborn. That's the night I realized magic really does exist in this world of ours. If you know what I am talking about, you know.

Since then I will never miss a Flaming Lips show. I've quit jobs, I've travelled, I've gotten tickets to whole festivals just to see them. Every single time I go, magic happens. If I were to get into every magical story that has happened at each of their shows, you would be here reading for a long ass time so I won't put you through that. lol. What I will say is that after that fateful summer night, I've over the years managed to meet Wayne Coyne and the rest of that gracious band to have beautiful chats with them. My band even hosted the official after-party here in Toronto the last time they played. I hope that one day I get to not only open for them (what a full-circle lifetime achievement that would be) but also get to work with them musically on a project. The Flaming Lips helped me believe that magic exists and that none of these dreams I want are too far fetched anymore. 

Here I am, 10 years later, an avid follower of a "cult band". Every person who goes to their shows then has a magical story to tell about it. In short, it's not just that time I cried at a show, it's that I will cry every single time I see or hear The Flaming Lips. It's a beautiful, magical, connective cry and It's comforting to look forward to.

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Let’s go to work.”

Those were the words uttered out of my dad’s mouth after he and his brothers finished a 15-minute-long laughing session about a very specific three seconds in time. Those three seconds happened to be about a man’s reaction when he heard the news that he is the father on The Jerry Springer Show.

I was about 5 or 6 years old at the time, and didn’t quite understand what was going on. All I knew is that it was funny; really fucking funny.

“Fucking” was a word I learned from them; and they would always have a big smile on their face and tears from laughter in their eyes when they said it, so I assumed it must be a good word. I mean, anyone that exudes that much happiness must be using a good word, right?

Anyway, they listened to my father, collected themselves and made their way out of the little room towards a door that said “STAGE ENTRANCE”.

I watched the show from backstage with my mom, who for some reason pursed her lips more and more every time they said the new word I learned. I could tell they were having fun; not the kind of fun they were having backstage with Jerry Springer, but a different kind of fun. I saw that it meant something to them. Unfortunately, like all good things, the show eventually came to an end. I was hooked. The next thing I knew, I was begging to go to any and every show. I loved seeing live music. I didn’t care what it was; The Utah Symphony, concerts in the park, a man playing the cello on the sidewalk… it didn’t matter, it was pure bliss!

What was even more blissful was my first violin lesson when I was 4 years old. It felt like my birthday and Christmas morning put into one. While little league baseball and art classes were fun, nothing compared to getting a chance to actually learn a musical instrument. I fell in love with the violin during the symphony’s performance of The Nutcracker. It was part of something called The Lollipop Series which was a concert that The Utah Symphony put on once a month for kids to introduce them to classical music. There was even an instrument “petting zoo” where kids got to play the instruments. I could’ve spent hours, probably even days there if I had the chance. I quickly learned that there was something even better than listening to music; creating it! If I wasn’t practicing the violin I was making up melodies on a toy keyboard or making my own recordings. My recording process at that age was pretty simple. The first step was to find my mother’s portable CD player (a boombox of sorts). The second step was to break out the Sesame Street-themed cassette player/recorder. Once you started playing the CD and pushed record on the Sesame Street rig, it was go time. I sang for hours. But I wanted to harmonize, and this was an issue since I couldn’t harmonize with myself when recording a cassette. What I could do though was grab a toy voice processor that came with a Halloween costume. It was cheap and made of plastic, but to me it was a godsend. It had the option of either amplifying my own voice, making it deeper, or “alien” which multiplied my voice into three very interesting sounding voices. The alien option was my favorite.

As I grew up, I expanded my palate by taking voice lessons, production classes, trumpet lessons and eventually studied music in college. It was pretty much my only passion. I didn’t care much for sports or math. Science wasn’t my best subject, and history was boring. But music… music was everything to me!

In a recent discussion with my mother, she told me she used to put headphones on her belly when she was pregnant with me and play my father’s music. Perhaps this is where it started. Perhaps I fell in love with music before I was even born. While I do understand now what my dad meant when he said “work” all those years ago, the passion still burns deep, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I knew I wanted to make music since I was around nine years old. I remember a good friend of my parents being a musician. He played the piano almost effortlessly. We went to one of his concerts and after seeing him play I knew I wanted to be just like him.

In 2000 I was eight years old. My dad was about to take me to one of my baseball games (for which I was probably more keyed up than any little kid should be) in his Ford F-150 and he put in a silver colored CD with four letters on the front: K-I-S-S. I know this band brings up certain feelings for a lot of listeners, but keep in mind - I don't care. I remember him saying that I was about to hear his favorite band from when he was my age, so naturally my ears perked up.

What happened next literally changed the course of my life. It took me from a little kid obsessed with baseball to a little kid obsessed with baseball and music. The opening guitar notes of "Detroit Rock City" invaded my ear drums. The seven hits to the snare just before the rest of the band exploded in blissful unison pulled me to the edge of my seat. The opening vocal line from Paul Stanley was the nail in the coffin in which my life before rock and roll was buried.

I literally felt like I was being sucked into the radio. My stomach was buzzing, my eyes were glued to the front console as if the band members were going to jump out of the speakers and into the truck cab. I completely forgot about playing baseball that night. After that night, I listened to that CD (which happened to be KISS' greatest hits) over and over again. I listened intently to the guitar solos, the drum fills and the delicious vocal hooks. It was the first time I remember being able to pick out each individual instrument.

It was also the first time I recall knowing what was happening within a song, and where it might go next. I felt as if I had jumped headfirst into a white water river where I couldn't drown; the further I dove in, the more I wanted it. Then I got a look at the band members themselves. They were like superheroes. They were larger than life. They were literally huge (three out of four band members were over six feet tall) and they wore lifted shoes. They lived what they sang about. They were angry, they were free and they were freaking good at what they did. They made it look easy.

I decided that I had to be part of whatever they were doing. I had to learn how to make those noises. I had to learn how to do what they did. I didn't have any interest in wearing the makeup, but I wanted the swagger. I wanted the skill. That was the moment I knew I had to make music.

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

I know some people say that you should hold your feelings inside and some don’t want grown men to cry, but as a music lover and a musician myself, I tend to love the shows where I connect with the artist. Where I feel that the song is written for me or about me. I can truly say that I have been very emotional on many occasions at shows but there are a couple of very special moments that I tend to go back to when I want to remember a really strong, sad but also empowering moment.

In this case there was a very small show for a school for pop/rock/funk artists called Kulturama. Young adults were performing and there was a lot of talent in that room. The thing is that I know that one of the singers, a very young female singer, had cancer, and it was terminal. She did not have much time left but with the support of her friends and with heavy medication she had pushed herself to be a part of this final show. 

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

It has to be said upfront: I cried at all David Bowie concerts I was lucky enough to witness, and I was fortunate enough to attend quite a few of them. The first was in 1987 on the rather ill-fated Glass Spider Tour. By that time I had been an avid fan for four years, ever since my sister bought the album Let’s Dance, which got me hooked from the scratchy guitar intro of the opening song, “Modern Love”. I was still a child back then, but immediately knew that Bowie was the gate to something bigger. So I started digging into his back catalogue and also the oeuvre of his friends and collaborators he would always be keen to mention in interviews to boost their exposure: Lou Reed and Iggy Pop. Through them, I got into the disciples of this Sacred Triangle such as Psychedelic Furs, Joy Division, Echo & The Bunnymen and ABC. It’s fair to say that without Bowie I would possibly be listening to Top 40 radio and wasting away in some dull office job.

When the man announced he would be touring the better part of 1987 after four years off the road, the excitement was enormous. We got tickets for the show on July 1 at Vienna’s Prater Stadion, and in the weeks before the show, anticipation would build to an almost unbearable extent. Come the day of the concert, and you’d find me by the gates as early as 10:30 in the morning. It was probably the hottest day of the year, and my skinny 14-year-old self struggled not to faint until the doors finally opened at 17:00. From then on, another two hours to go until the forgettable local support band and another four until Bowie’s grand entrance.

And suddenly there he was, abseiling from the stage top - remember, the tour was called Glass Spider for a reason, with the stage resembling a giant spider - and I couldn’t hold back the tears. There he finally was, the man I had been idolizing since I was 10, live on stage right in front of me. He looked a bit ludicrous in the red suit and this awful mullet-cum-quiff haircut, but who cares! It was Bowie for Christ’s sake! I remember I managed to recompose myself after the first thrust of emotions, but tears would roll again during “All The Madmen”, “Heroes” and “Absolute Beginners”. I vividly remember so many details from this show it’s ridiculous. Though it’s fair to say the album Never Let Me Down and the Glass Spider Tour were not Bowie’s most glorious moments, I’ll forever cherish the memories of that night.

I would see Bowie many more times and in much better artistic shape. The Sound+Vision greatest hits tour, Tin Machine - yes, I really love this band - Outside and Earthling tours in the 90s, Heathen and Reality tours in the 00s… Bowie always put his heart into the performance, whether it was in a small club or in a huge stadium. Of course, the most Bowie-related tears I shed was on January 10, 2016, when he unexpectedly shuffled off this mortal coil. The memories of our first in-person encounter on July 1, 1987 remain.

For the lovers of the strange, unusual and bizarre, The Oddities & Curiosities Expo showcases taxidermy, preserved specimens, original artwork, horror-inspired pieces, antiques, handcrafted oddities, quack medical devices, creepy clothing, odd jewelry, funeral collectibles and much more.

Husband and wife Michelle and Tony Cozzaglio have been organizing “different” events in their hometown of Tulsa, Okla. since 2014, as well as collecting art and unusual items for personal use. That is what sparked the idea of starting the Expo and giving fellow lovers of the macabre a place to indulge.

“As small business owners ourselves, we love supporting other small businesses and independent artists,” Michelle said. “I remember thinking ‘It would be so cool to have an event focusing just on dark art and strange items!’ I could have never dreamed it would transform into what it has today.”

While they had experience organizing events that offered a more offbeat style, this was entirely new territory. They found it challenging to get their name out there as a hard-working, trusted expo that could draw both vendors and attendees, but thankfully found several venues and vendors that took a chance on them.

These days, thousands of applications are received for the Expo, which travels around the country every year. Michelle personally reviews each application in order to curate the best possible show for each location.

“Since 2017, I think we have really grown something special,” she said. “It’s a place where vendors who don’t fit in anywhere else can thrive.”

Not only is it a place for vendors to thrive, it is also a place for attendees to be in a safe space. Each event is a place where anyone can find their new favorite artist or dealer without judgment.

“Tony and I have worked really hard to provide this experience and [after] almost every show we get messages from attendees thanking us for providing a place that they felt ‘with their people’ and at home,” Michelle said. “It makes me emotional! That's the most important thing to me.”

While The Oddities & Curiosities Expo isn’t for everyone, Michelle encourages anybody to come check it out and give it a chance. There is something unusual for everyone to enjoy, whether they think they enjoy it or not.

View upcoming shows for The Oddities & Curiosities Expo here.

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

Dreams really do come true.

This story begins in 1985, when 9-year-old me was blasting the newest album (on cassette) called Synchronicity by the biggest band in the world and my all-time fave, The Police. Being the youngest of five kids in my family, I relied heavily on my big brothers for new music I could steal – I mean, borrow from them. Little did I know that months later while sitting at #1 on the charts for a goddamn year (no exaggeration), this massive group would do the unexpected and… break up?!

Along with millions of other fans, I was absolutely devastated. It was the first time I ever felt so empty, almost like what it would feel like if my parents got divorced. I wasn't born when The Beatles broke up but now I could understand the massive impact that must have had on the world and my father, Efren Pereira Sr., who was a super fan. It was he who sparked my love for music with a vinyl collection that included The Fab Four, Motown, Sly and the Family Stone, the Bee Gees, Elton John and basically nothing but the greats. I would spend the rest of my adolescent years dreaming of the day when my band would reunite, because all bands do that eventually right? Wrong.

Fast forward to 1995.

I was inspired to start my own power trio we called Wide Mouth Mason, which featured yours truly on bass and vocals like my idol, Sting. We played our first sold-out show at our legendary campus bar Louis' Pub on the University of Saskatchewan campus (go Huskies!), where every huge Canadian act at the time had also played on their come up. It was no surprise the biggest hit of the night was none other than our cover of The Police's lesser-known 1978 soft single, “So Lonely”. It felt so satisfying to live vicariously through my heroes, but nothing was ever going to fill my nostalgic appetite more than them getting back together.

A few years later, I got click-baited into purchasing a copy of Rolling Stone magazine with the lads on the cover and titled, 'The Police Reunion'. Could it be true? Well unfortunately, that was a hard NOPE. They merely reunited for an interview which ended up feeling like a couples therapy session. Sting apologized to Stewart, who apologized to Andy, all due to a big miscommunication and years of living on the road in close quarters with your brothers. I believe, however, that this played a key factor in what was to happen in 10 more years.

Super fast forward to 2007.

At the prestigious Grammy Awards, a mystery band was to be kicking off the show, and low and behold when the lights came on it was like they had never left. The crowd and millions of people watching around the world went berserk, including myself obviously. And just like that, with no warning the unthinkable happened - they were BACK!

I had all but given up hope of a reunion until this historically shocking moment. I mean, it had been 22 years after all. And to the pure happiness of every fan, they announced a worldwide reunion tour that would be starting in wait what... CANADA?!

I wasted no time in joining the online fan clubs to give me the best shot at buying tickets to a concert. I snagged a pair to the Montreal show for two reasons:

1. It was taking place towards the end of their Canadian tour so they will have shaken off any rust by then.

2. Montreal had been a place where they had spent a lot of time making records and forming close friendships, so I knew they would be treating it like a hometown show.

I was right!

So here we go.

In the scorching heat of July in 2007 at a packed Molson Centre (now known as the Bell Centre), home of the famous Les Habitants hockey team, my partner at the time and I were sitting 15 rows up on the bass player’s side of the stage with nothing but their iconic gear laid out in a perfect triangle. There was a buzz unlike anything I had ever felt before, and I realized my dream was about to become a reality.

Through the darkness, you could see three figures appearing from backstage. As the crowd roared into a frenzy, there came the blistering intro guitar riff of their classic smash hit, “Message In A Bottle”. And there they were – Stewart Copeland's lanky frame smashing his drums with surgical precision, Andy Summers hammering those add nine chords, and of course, their fearless frontman Gordon Sumner aka Sting, smacking his gorgeous 1959 Fender Jazz with most of the paint having worn down to the wood from the thousands of shows he had performed with it. And there was me, a grown man bawling his eyes out, completely overwhelmed with an emotion and joy I didn't think was possible to experience. Suffice to say, it was the best concert I have ever seen and probably will ever see in my lifetime. At one point I snuck my way within a few rows, and as they did the real version of “So Lonely” as their encore, I swear to god Sting looked over as I belted out the harmonies to his verse lyrics.

What.. A... Night!

The next morning, the power in our hotel room serendipitously went down so my fiance and I strolled over to my fave breakfast place called Eggspectations. By the time I sat down to order, I kid you not, in walks drummer Stewart Copeland with a stylish lady. I waited until they ordered and then we approached them. I got to tell him how much of an influence he has been on my music career. He then offered to sign the concert swag we didn't realize we were still wearing. A legendary moment with a legendary performer.

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

Growing up in foster care, the closest thing I had to a father was my Children's Aid worker, Ron. He was my rock and although it took me years to trust him, once that trust was solidified, he became my greatest confidant and role model. He helped me through some catastrophic experiences, even at the expense of his job. He was the kind of man who always did his best to do the right thing and do right by those he worked with. If it weren't for him, I genuinely don't know where I would be today.

Ron introduced me to a band called Supertramp and we'd blare it in his car while drinking coffee. He gave me life advice, spoke of his own experiences in the foster care system and told me all the ways I should be getting my life together - and let me tell you, he wasn't wrong.

In my early 20s, just shortly after realizing that he was a safe person, I found out Ron had terminal cancer. I found out early in the week, and he was gone by the weekend. Heartbroken and riddled with grief, I went out and bought all of his favourite albums. I don't think a day went by that I didn't play them on full blast, choking down tears in total disbelief that he was no longer here and that I never got the opportunity to say goodbye. These albums became the soundtrack of our unusual bond and always made me feel a little less alone in the world.

One day, a few years after his death, I was scrolling online. I discovered that Roger Hodgson (one of the founding members of Supertramp) would be in Ottawa in the coming months. I had to go! My partner at the time and I instantly purchased the best tickets we could afford, which included the opportunity to watch him and the band soundcheck. We got our plans together, and I was over the moon!

When we showed up the night of the show, we unfortunately missed the soundcheck. I never received the email regarding soundcheck times, and we missed it by an hour or so. Little did I know that the universe had bigger plans for me that night. Suddenly, someone approached me and asked me if I had missed the soundcheck and explained that some people unfortunately never received the email. They said they were the touring manager and that they'd like to make it up to me by allowing me to meet Roger himself. I was absolutely gobsmacked! As I gathered myself together, they turned to me and said, "Just go over to that table over there and ask for Ron; he'll set you up."

Needless to say, I cried at that moment and cried the entire duration of the show. I was so overwhelmed with joy knowing that my father figure managed to be there with me in spirit. Call it fate, or whatever you wish, but I truly felt his presence and know he was there with me that evening.

This experience just further solidified that Ron will always be with me. His legacy lives on in those he's influenced over the years, the music he loved, his stories and his beautiful family. Ron will be involved in every major life event I have moving forward, and I know he will continue to throw little curve balls at me to lead me down the right path. Though I wish he were here, I can assure you that whenever I'm feeling low, it isn't uncommon for me to hear someone blaring Supertramp with their system up and their windows down. Thanks for always sticking with me, Ron.

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

I simply love Christmas! To me, it’s truly the best time of the year. There’s something extra special about singing carols, seeing the bright lights and coming together with friends and family that give me an overall sense of good cheer.

As a performer, it brings me great joy to sing in concert during the Christmas holiday. A few years ago, I was privileged to present a program of Christmas classics at the White House. What an awesome experience! It was a thrill for me to perform some of my most favorite music during my most favorite season in such a historical landmark. It is a cherished memory that will stay with me always.

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what singer/songwriter Benjamin Dakota Rogers had to say: 

Since I was a little kid, one of my favorite family traditions has been that on Christmas Eve we exchange fun Christmas pajamas and sit around eating cookies, cheese, cured meats and drinking eggnog.

A pretty common winter activity, and a favorite of mine, is tobogganing! Going out and finding a big hill to race down. Bringing a thermos of hot chocolate and some leftover Christmas cookies is quintessential holiday fun. That and bird watching from the window in my kitchen; we always put out seeds and I love seeing all the different birds flit around the yard.

One of my most memorable gifts has been little vintage lead cowboy figures. I had seen them at an antique market over the summer and wished I made the purchase. I looked online and couldn't find anything similar. Somehow my little brother found a whole set for sale last year on Etsy of all places and gave them to me. I was so surprised and since they have become some of my prized possessions, they sit on the desk in my recording studio constantly squared off with each other.

"Bleak Midwinter" is for me one of the most beautiful Christmas songs ever written. I love the lonesome haunting melody; it feels like a cold winter night to me in a very nostalgic way. I think my favorite version is by a Canadian band called The O'Pears - the harmonies are just so pretty.

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Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what singer/songwriter Ruby Greenberg had to say: 

Growing up, it was typical for us kids in the family to get lots of opportunities to play music. My brother and I were enrolled in piano lessons, music classes, and performed often in the community and in school alongside our classmates. The holidays, however, were a very special time because my entire family gathered together to sing. My mom would sit at the piano and play chords, and all of us would sing Christmas songs. We'd squeeze three people onto the piano bench, I'd flip the pages of the songbook and we'd fight over which songs to skip and which to tackle. 

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Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what Starpainter frontman Joel Stretch had to say: 

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Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what Zadkiel lead vocalist Dan Heathcote had to say: 

My favourite Christmas film is probably Scrooged starring Bill Murray. It was made in 1988, and I remember growing up with it on television during that time. It's kind of an MTV hell thing that ends up being heaven on Earth.

Scrooged is an adaptation from the original A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens and is set in corporate America during the Reagan era of Wall Street-esque’s 'Greed is Good'. Except that capitalist greed isn't good for us all (or the planet), even if it seems that presents are the only meaning of Christmas to most kids and some adults nowadays. Santa's sleigh is weighted down with an overabundance of trash and high-end products. I like Christmas and the spirit of peace to all on Earth is something we should aspire to all the time, not just towards the end of each year. Anyway, enough evangelising; I'm not religious but I'm not a rich capitalist either, nor would I want to be!

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Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what Two Late To The Party's Adam Corkett had to say: 

Growing up in Canada as a practicing Catholic, Christmas was always fairly routine; going to church, spending the next morning with family opening gifts and a turkey dinner afterwards. Though I moved a lot as a kid, our traditions were always the same and even the people I shared it with were always the same.

In the 2000s I had the opportunity to travel and live in Southeast Asia as a tour guide for a small travel company from Canada, and since I wasn’t going to be able to go home I was kind of lost on what to do for Christmas. It should be no big surprise that the Christmas season in Thailand is very different from Canada. As a predominantly Buddhist country, December is essentially just another month in the year and if it weren’t for the odd Christmas lights or picture of Santa, you would have no idea it was Christmas at all. At the time I was living in Northern Thailand, in the city of Chiang Mai, studying Thai and as the season changed I was starting to miss my family and was looking for something to distract me from thoughts of home. Figuring it wasn’t too far away I decided to head to Laos for Christmas and New Years.

I did very little planning for this trip and didn’t know it at the time but it would be a long boat ride over two days to get me to my destination of Luang Prabang in Laos. After arriving at the border crossing I met up with a random group of German tourists who were headed in the same direction on the same boat. We were setting out Christmas Eve and would be spending the night in a small village halfway to Luang Probang. At this point I was definitely getting homesick; I never spent Christmas away from my family and I had never experienced being alone. Fortunately for me, this wonderful group of Germans were kind enough to include me in their Christmas tradition, which was celebrating Christmas on Christmas Eve.

From out of nowhere people were pulling out chocolates, passing around German schnapps and music was being played (both Christmas and traditional Bob Marley tunes). Christmas morning we got back in our boat, a bit worse for wear but still in a festive mood. We kept the good times rolling as we enjoyed a Christmas morning cruising the Mekong river. I don’t remember feeling homesick in the end, just the feeling of being included and cared for even though I couldn’t remember the names of those wonderful people.

In the end, this turned out to be one of my favorite Christmases, and allowed me to step outside of what I had always known and thought of Christmas. It showed me you can find the most special Christmas memories in the most unusual places and it's not where you are but who you are with that really matters.

Two Late To The Party finds it's never too late to find the true meaning of Christmas

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Ever since I was a kid in Connecticut, the holidays were always a special time to decorate the house with my DIY arts and crafts projects and of course decorate the tree. I was always the "unusual" kid and was obsessed with spiders, Disney villains, bugs and pretty much anything creepy. My holiday shopping would always start the day after Halloween and I would always buy creepy accessories to put in the tree and had a stuffed tarantula toy I would bring downstairs on Christmas morning.

Years later, I'm happy to say I'm still the same "unusual" kid who likes creepy holiday decorations and will never outgrow DIY arts and crafts projects to decorate the house. Every Los Angeles Christmas, I like to decorate my Tim Burton-style looking tree with crystals, jewelry and of course, lights! Christmas wouldn't be complete without pictures with Santa so I take my guinea pigs, Gucci and Gizmo, to get their picture taken on Santa's lap every year and love sending the pictures to my family.

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