I bought a used record player a few years ago. My wife said it was stupid. I already had one from many years prior, but it was in disrepair. Despite my best MacGyver work to fix it, the songs still played in slow motion. So I bought another one just like it, and I kept the old one for parts. OK, that may be stupid.
Meanwhile, I thoroughly enjoy pulling the LPs out of those musty smelling covers and placing them on the turntable. The crackle. The hiss. The skips. The scratches. It’s all part of the process, and I love it.
Waylon Jennings. Elton John. B.J. Thomas. Prince. Elvis. And a few of those K-Tel compilation albums. These and many others are part of my growing record collection.
A few years ago, my wife and I decided to have an album party in our garage. I pulled out the vehicles and moved in my stereo, complete with my record player. We invited many of our friends but with two stipulations:
1) They had to bring an album to play; and
2) They had to dress up like the band or artist of that album.
Our courageous friends went for it. Rod Stewart. Michael Jackson. Boy George. Justin Timberlake. They were all there, and their music played into the night, complete with a disco ball hanging from the garage ceiling and some awful dance moves.
This may sound like fun because it truly was. I encourage you to do it as well. Buy a record player. Search for used albums. Gather some costumes.
And have a spare record player, just in case.
Have a terrific Tuesday, and thanks for reading.
Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@dmcityview.com
641-755-2115