It’s a comin’ up a storm, Triangle people. Clashing of fronts. Dark clouds brewing. It’s in the weather forecast, yes, but it also describes conditions at my desk this morning.
Sucky, sucky Friday morning. (That is a literary term, of course.) Thank goodness for two things: 1) the best hair guy in the state, with whom I have an appointment this afternoon, also has an advanced degree in psychology. Double score, and 2) I stopped by In The Groove at lunch. Know what? I feel better already.
Regular visitors to this site may know that I have a record addiction. Newcomers, I have a confession to make: I have a record addiction. I have been collecting records since I moved into my house twelve years ago, and I started framing them as wall art. Right now I only have room for eighteen at a time, but I do rotate them. The only one that never moves is Janis Joplin’s Pearl, front and center, because I love her. After finding my parents’ stash of records a few weeks ago, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to reconfigure the display. My curating rules are simple. Every record has to be an artist or group I wholeheartedly love, in some way, and every album cover has to have a photograph of the artists.
So today I drove by In the Groove, and there was a sign out front, and the owner was outside eyeing the sky and leaning in the doorway. I screeched to a stop. I fed the meter. The owner, Greg, is the kind of guy who introduces himself, and knows what’s in his collection, and won’t judge you for having, um, eclectic taste.
He found me a Patsy Cline, which has been sorely lacking from the collection of someone who is smitten with all things honky tonk. I just haven’t found an album of hers with a flattering picture. He did, in less than 30 seconds.
I bought an old Chieftans album, because they are a sentimental favorite. Also, I bought their newest album yesterday, and if you don’t think traditional Irish music is your thing, how ’bout traditional Irish music with The Decemberists, the Carolina Chocolate Drops, The Low Anthem, and The Civil Wars? It’s good, y’all.
I also found Aretha in Paris. There she is, blue on blue on blue, looking like she owns the place. I already have an Aretha. But this one is better.
While shopping, I also had to confess to Greg that I have a lot of records, and no turntable. He was all kinds of helpful; he showed me how to change a needle, and told me where to find the best ones online, and talked me through a few options. I’m holding out for one of his refurbished ones, when he’s ready to start selling them.
All told, I spent $15. $15 will buy you a lot of happy, in a record store. That, and a slice of Lily’s pizza, and the prospect of lots of great music ahead, have turned me around heading into the weekend. Happy Friday, all.