I Miss Vinyl Albums … By The Fairy Rock Mother Kiki Plesha
I Miss Vinyl Albums … By The Fairy Rock Mother Kiki Plesha
I miss everything about vinyl albums.
Buying an album used to be likened to a religious experience of sorts. You would get it home and tear open the cellophane casing … and there it was! You held it reverently by the sides and slowly tilted it ever-soslightly, and reveled in the satiny sheen. Such rapture! Excuse me, I think I need a cigarette …
OK, I’ m back … HOW I would play that album was an evolution of sorts. In the early years, I would debut my acquisitions on a rickety little record player that came in a box with a handle and clasps on it that opened like a suitcase. On its cover, it featured wholesome looking kids in bobby socks and saddle shoes jitterbugging away with notes sprouting out of their heads like a musical LSD trip. Later, I inherited my grandparents old stereo cabinet … remember those? They were a substantial piece of furniture. Some of the fancier models even included a television and AM / FM radio. Come to think of it, all they needed were a small fridge, a toaster oven, and water cooler, and you would never have to move. Oh, and cup holders … got to have cup holders.
So back to the album … so you take out the vinyl disc--and after the clouds parted and a holy light encased it( complete with angels singing), you gingerly placed it on the turntable. Those who are also of a“ certain age” that are reading this, know that the arm with the“ stereophonic” needle in it sometimes required a penny to be placed on the top of it for better“ contact”, in the case of the record skipping. And there was a special insert / adapter for 45’ s, should you be so disposed. 45’ s were stored in a round plastic disc with a handle on it … not unlike
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