Every year when Record Store Day comes around I find myself in bed around 6:30 am on a Saturday morning wondering if I really want to get up out of bed and venture to a record shop and wait in the cold. With each passing birthday and newly sore muscle and joint I really ponder whether I’m gonna jump in the van and celebrate this thing called Record Store Day. This year was no different and like every year before it I grumble and moan out of bed, throw on some clothes and put on a hat to cover my balding head and make my way to that chilly line in front of the record shop and wait till 8am. The doors open and everyone makes their way into the warm record shop and like sharks we attack those milk crates full of exclusive records. The moaning subsides as I leaf through and find things I wanted and things I didn’t realize I wanted until they meet my eyes. I mingle with others, talk to the record store owners, and have a sense of ease and calm come over me. I’m then happy I rolled out of my warm bed where my lovely wife and little dog keep on quietly sleeping and dreaming.
This year was no different.
No grand gestures here, no contemplative thesis on the meaning of vinyl and what it means to me. I leave the warm embrace of a Saturday morning in bed so I can share a few moments with strangers and grab records I can then return to home with and spin them as I sip on a cup of coffee and talk to my wife who sits on the couch listening with me.
I think that says it all, folks.
What did you pick up?