After months of doing nothing about it and occasionally asking the lead singer in my band for help, I fixed the receiver part of my turn table so I can again spin records. I missed it so much that I listened to records all morning while cleaning up the house and making breakfast instead of writing this very blog post that I started Sunday morning. My iPod is long broken, my cd collection is a mess and the PA in my jam room is not hooked up so the vinyl set up is my only way to let loose with the tunes besides a couple ancient radios. Vinyl is the best way to listen to music and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until the first few chords of the song below rang out in my living room at a high volume.
It wasn’t that I was lazy in attempting to fix my record player, I just have little confidence in my ability to fix anything. This is a silly notion since I am not a complete idiot and gain practical knowledge with my increasing years, Somehow, one of the two speaker wires in my left speaker had gotten wrapped up around a metal piece in the middle of where you hook the two wires. It must have been shorting out the whole system whenever I turned it on which is why it would play music for an instant then cut out. I rewound the wire, it fired right up and am proud. This song always pleases, although I’ve shared it before. It really enhanced my bacon cooking yesterday morning. I don’t know where I got it. It’s case is all messed up but it plays well so i assume it was a yard sale. I didn’t touch this record for years and now have it in heavy rotation.
My band has gotten into what I would consider our first serious argument. We have been doing the covers thing to decent results and are pushing to finish our own music while still accruing fun shows for the summer to expand our skills and social network. The only complaint we’ve had is that we need to play more dance music so people will want to get out there and shake their booties. I think we play some jamming tunes, but we decided to brainstorm as a band for some other covers we could throw in there to get people moving. This was the first suggestion by my esteemed lead singer and best friend:
I hate flying. I really do. There’s something wholly unnatural and weird about being in a pressurized tube at 38, 000 feet that occasionally shakes everywhere when you hit turbulence. I know I have mentioned multiple times that the Elder J and I grew up in the sticks, but this doesn’t mean I haven’t traveled. I have flown all over the country and to Europe, semi-regularly since I was very young but I still hate flying. It never changes.
Once I turned 21, I would get drunk when I flew to numb the stress I felt but I quickly learned that this also is not the best plan. Well, its fun for a little bit, but hangovers seem to hasten at high altitudes or I spend way too much money on Jim Beam Black nips and snack plates as free food on a flight has gone the way of the dodo.