Proroguing Perfection: My Record Collection

For Christmas, I always ask for something I can use. Last Christmas my brother gave me a little portable record player and 3 or 4 records. The records were pretty random, a little Frank Sinatra, The Beach Boys and and Indie LP I had never heard of (but enjoyed). He painted the body white and told me I should paint it. I still haven't but I have gotten use of the little thing.

The sound isn't Hifi or anything, its a little tinny and has that aged wobbly sound, no matt

er which disk you spin. There's something calming and wholesome about the sound.

I'm not an avid music collector. I never have been. I

went through my Columbia house phase, but during my next broke phase I copied all my CDs to my computer and sold the CDs for peanuts to cover a pack of smokes or two. I love music. However, I've never really taken music very seriously and so building a music collection has never been a goal of mine.

But when I was presented with this gift, I was presented with the task of finding records to play on it, and a record collection became necessary.

I went down to a local used record shop to see what I could find that tickled my fancy. After a brief turn of the lp section I realized I was in over my head. I do not know enough about music to know what albums are supposed to be in my record collection. So discouraged I sought out the bargain bin, knowing that the cheaper the record, the less guilty I would feel for preferring my ipod to my little music box. I no sooner found the dollar bin than I realized the purpose of my record collection: to salvage unwanted records.

I've now bu

ilt a modest collection of everything from Raffi's Christmas album to the second half of The Wall. I've got a sprinkling of 80s pop, a few really good rock and roll classics, a couple folksy songwriters, a few standards, more Neil Diamond than I really should, and that one Indie album my brother gave me.