Come with me while I take you to a special place in my home. Down a flight of stairs to my basement, past a ping pong table and washing machine, to another room just below.
And there lies my surprise: boxes upon boxes of records that have surpassed their age. No, the mold hasn’t set in as yet. But it’s only a matter of time.
Now, if a child tells me he can download my entire collection onto a memory stick and carry it around in his shirt pocket, why am I still holding on to a vinyl collection?
For sentiment, that’s why. I cannot part with them. They’ve been such an integral part of my life growing up that to bid this collection good-bye would snatch a piece of my youthful experience.
Yes, I’m the same guy who wrote about donating a sizeable collection to the library’s book fair some years back. What they didn’t sell for a buck apiece probably got dumped along with the cassette tapes and VCRs.
What you don’t know is how much I held back for nostalgia sake. I couldn’t part with my Armenian collection, or some of my favorite classical and pop albums.
Nor could I bid adieu to my 45 RPM discs—all 12 boxes of them dating back to the 1940’s when they played in jute boxes and nickelodeons.
Maybe it was all about destiny. You see, in my dad’s luncheonette was a Wurlitzer. The bobbysoxers would come in, share an ice cream soda with two straws, and pop a nickel into the playing machine.
Out came Elvis, the Coasters and Platters, good ole Roy Orbison and the Fat Man himself—Fats Domino. Going back even further, crooners Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Connie Francis sent you swooning over your shake.
Being a product of the 50s, I loved my music, not the noise you hear today. Sorry folks! My generation was a sacred one.
One day, I took notice of a stranger. In he came with a case, went to the jute box, and began removing the disks six at a time. Every two weeks, he replaced them with newer songs.
“Hey, mister, what becomes of those old records?” I hastily inquired.
“You want them?”
And there you have it. The record guy and I formed a relationship for 20 years. Twice a month, he’d appear like clockwork, replace the records, and give me the others. As the collection started growing, I’d supplement them with those I bought and others I would find in limbo here and there.
I belonged to record clubs and knew a few DJs from my side job as a wedding photographer who passed along their complements. I was a veritable self-imposed clearing house built into one. Some of my best days were spent browsing inside record shops in what eventually became an obsession.
Well, every now and then, I get my turntable going and have myself a hootenanny. I still own a record player and despite the advent of CDs, still turn to the records for entertainment.
The obvious question I’m waiting to hear is this. In all my years of listening to spinning platters, what, in my opinion, was the most popular?
It was not Presley’s “Hound Dog.” Nor was it Roy Orbison’s “Crying” or “This Magic Moment” by the Drifters. The Platters were up there with “The Great Pretender,” and who could ever forget the Buddy Holly hit “Rave On?”
I have them all, originals as well as copies, and they’re my treasure trove, hidden in my basement but yearning to breathe free.
I won’t get into the Beatles, Simon & Garfunkel, or the Rolling Stones. They’re present and accounted for, along with the 33’s and yes, 78s.
Most played? Get ready for this. “In the Still of the Night” by the 5 Satins. The disc was paper thin by the time it came to me six months later.
If it’s worth mentioning, I’ll sometimes play an original Caruso singing “Ave Maria” on a 78 just to see how far we’ve come in the recording industry.
Which brings me to another matter. I never knew April 18 was classified as “Record Store Day” until I noticed it in Parade Magazine. I knew about an Ice Cream Day and a Hot Dog Day and a World Boxing Day. Isn’t that the day that everyone goes punch happy?
Why would there be a Record Store Day when there are no records being sold retail, except for an odd one here and there?
Just let me crank up the volume and relive my past. In a word, “Shaboom!”
Tom Vartabedian
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Hi Tom,
Love it. I still have all my old records, Armenian and American. Can’t part with them. My son has a store in Cranston, RI, Time Capsule where he sells and buys old record albums and comic books. There are still a lot of people playing the old records. Enjoy.
These days vinyl is actually making a comeback in many circles. I for one stubbornly cling to my cassette collection, comprised mostly of mix tapes I’ve made since I was 12. Say what you want, but will you be listening to your MP3 playlists 20 years from now? I think not.