Although I no longer have a way to listen to them, I could never melt one in an oven. Never.
As young teens my sister and I listened to music by tuning in the furniture-size radio that sat in our living room or by loading a stack of records onto our phonograph. When one record finished playing, the arm that held the needle would move out of the way, another record would drop in place and the needle would move to just the right spot and another song would begin. For some reason we collected the 45’s that featured one song on each side, rather than the LP’s with multiple songs. Perhaps because they were cheaper. We kept them beside our comic books underneath our dressing table. Our favorites? Elvis, Fats Domino, and the Beatles.
I have a friend who collects the old records. He doesn’t have a way to play them, but he insists they will be valuable one day.
And then there’s a Brazilian businessman whose obsession with vinyl records is over the top. He owns over 200,000 and he can’t stop buying.
One of the characters in my book, Agnes Hopper’s Bridge to Retirement, is a man who also has a record collection, mainly Elvis ones. He plays them in his room late at night and Agnes can hear him shuffling about as he dances alone to tunes such as Love Me Tender. He needs a lady friend and he does fall in love with another resident, but it isn’t Agnes.
How did you listen to music when you were growing up? Through radio, the jukebox in the local drugstore, records, cassette tapes, CD’s, or perhaps holding a “boom-box” on your shoulder?
And who was your favorite artist “back in the day?”