Bring Back Record Players!

Walk through the front door, and the smell of old cardboard and ink, slight decay and age hits your nostrils. While at the same time, ears are greeted by the best of Chuck Berry crackling through the air, and eyes rest on a proverbial museum of music from years past. Strolling around the small store, you let your hands drift over cardboard album covers of Elvis Presley, Van Halen, and the Andrews Sisters, wishing you could take them all home. But regardless you are thrilled: you have finally found YOUR music store, because everyone should have their own! Just for a moment, you can forget about things like iTunes and Spotify, and just enjoy the authentic sound of record player music. You promise yourself that soon enough, you will buy your own player, and spend your days listening to that crackling clear music while dreaming away.

Ah, sorry I had to reminisce for a moment about last Sunday’s foray into my local records store. I think the owner is getting kind of annoyed with me because I walk through every Sunday, just to smell that cardboard, hear that music quality, and to peruse that collection. But this time, I decided to take pics and really check out all the stuff he had scattered about the store.

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I think my grandparents had one of these.

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My mom still has her collection stored somewhere and she still will not let me touch them!

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Looks like the record player and the CD are trying to console each other over the fact that they’re not used as much anymore.

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Never had the privilege of employing these to satisfy my music needs, a little before I entered the music scene, or just the scene in general haha.

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Not to date myself or anything, but I distinctly remember recording my first cassette, a beautiful memory full of neon clothes, crimped hair, and Aerosmith.

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This was a new addition: Steampunk art! It’s called Javaplex…I think it’s trying to be a coffee maker.

Music has come such a far way, with the norm now being completely digital (haven’t touched a music CD in years). It’s funny though that we have access to some of the best high quality players for music to date, but lots of us still love the sound of music coming out of a record player (definitely including me). I swear to you, nothing sounds better than Frank Sinatra crooning away from a record player nestled in the corner of the room (my room).

What do you think? What was your favorite type of music player growing up? Lemme know down below!

When an Epic Sea Battle Disappears

Art by Florian Prou

Art by Florian Prou

“WHAT HAPPENED?! How did this puddle get here?” Shouted the Museum Director, joining the Deputy in front of the painting.
It had originally depicted an epic battle between the Spanish and the British on the high seas, now it just depicted the high seas. No ships in sight. The Deputy had noticed it, and dragged in the Director from vacation. They still opened the museum, but partitioned off the room with the painting.
While the men stood there staring at the scene, a small boy trotted into the room towards the deputy and pulled on his sleeve. The Deputy forced a smile while bending down to the child’s level. “Hullo, what can I do for you? Are you lost?”
The boy looked sheepish, and he pulled out three ships from behind his back and showed the man. Ships that looked exactly like the ones originally in the painting. Still dripping wet. “I sowwie mithter” the boy said.
Trying to stay calm, the man asked “Young man, where did you get those?”
The boy looked down and stared at the ships. “I learned thith game from my muvver, but pleath don’t tell her. I can put the thips back.”
Shocked, he told the boy to wait. He asked the Director to get started on the report, and he would be there momentarily to finish it. He told the boy he wouldn’t tell a soul if he fixed the painting.
The boy smiled and walked over to the painting. Placing the ships into the puddle and placing a chubby hand onto the frame, he muttered something under his breath. The Deputy will never forget what he saw: like watching a theatre moving picture go backwards. In less than a minute, the floor was dry and the painting was fully restored except for the tiny handprint on the frame. As the boy walked out of the room, the Deputy wondered how he was going to tell the Director.