This summer my in-laws decided to clean out a few sheds on their property that held pretty much everything under the sun. My father-in-law is a bit of a collector…and he does not like to throw things away. Add in the four children and all of their stuff that had amassed over the years, and there was quite a bit of treasure hunting going on.
When the dust settled, I was the proud owner of one mid-century modern-ish looking bedroom set, one pair of cowboy boots, a beautiful shelving unit, a giant canvas painting of a rooster (I have no idea how I ended up with that one) and one record player. And oh, how I love that beautiful, old record player. I started begging for one a few months back, and poor Trent loudly voiced his concern about me completely transforming in to a hipster with no chance for return. For proof of his endless suffering, here is a photo I took earlier this summer when I forced him to go in to a record store with me.
It just looks uncomfortable, doesn’t it?
Anyway, apparently nagging works, because when three (or possibly four) record players were found in the sheds, I ended up discovering one had been placed in the trunk of my car without my knowledge. Trent arranged the whole thing and then set it up for me on our stereo at home. The only issue we’ve had is the audio output is a little wonky (probably due to it’s years in hibernation in an old shed in the country), so we can’t get the volume up as loud as I’d like. But I love it just as it is, wonky audio and all.
A few weeks ago I put the word out on the Crazybananas Facebook page that I was looking for a few fun record stores in Kansas City. I got a bunch of awesome recommendations, but guess where I ended up finding my first five records? Some amazing vintage store downtown? Um, no. I found my used vinyl beauties at a Half Priced Books next to my local Target. Hey, I’ll take what I can get.
I picked up a few used albums from classic artists like Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, Simon and Garfunkel and Ella Fitzgerald. I also bought one new record by Joni Mitchell, just to splurge. The used albums cost anywhere from $2 to $7. Cheap, and beautiful.
I love the stories behind these records. Their old owners treated them well, and I find myself wondering about where they came from. Who was this Ralph person, and did he realize how unfortunate his last name was?
I plan on obtaining quite a few records as I go, and hopefully someday I’ll have a collection that I can pass down to my kids. My wish is this will be yet another memory they can hold on to from their childhoods. Every morning I try and turn on a record while I drink coffee and they have breakfast. Tate dances and Lucy sings, and I sit there in my happy spot on the couch, thinking, “Not exactly a hipster’s life, but I think this one is pretty damn fantastic.”
