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Suggested prompt...
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Walking through the doors of Vintage Vinyl, a small 2nd hand record shop, the mix of patchouli incense and the scent of old moldy record jackets filled the air. As I was thumbing through my life alphabetically, Tea for the Tillerman, Threshold of a Dream, Led Zepplin, Uriah Heap, Tom Rush, Tommy and all the others help dust off the corners of a life long forgotten.
Then I heard a familiar sound that caught my attention...the hiss-pop anticipation of a needle on vinyl. MP3s go from silence to the music with no anticipation...a vinyl always builds to the song because you know when that hiss-pop starts...music will follow.
Francois Hardy..."Je t'aime" began to play. Francois Hardy was the hottest artist that summer in Europe. Everywhere there was music playing...there was Francois Hardy. I was back at the Cafe du Monde in Paris...1972 with my traveling companion, a French Canadian from Nestor Falls, Ontario. This was the departure we both dreaded. After 3 months of hitch hiking the Gold Coast of Spain to the hash bars of Amsterdam, she was headed back for school. Just like that Jackie Dumont walked out of my life just as she came in...no fanfare...just gone...
The song over, I gathered my composure, paid for my teenage son's White Stripes album and left the store. Once outside, I looked back once more. I could swear I saw the reflection of a French Canadian I once knew in the window.
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Grandma was moving from her house to a condo, and after 40+ years in that house, things had definitely accumulated. Although Grandma was still going strong, Alison knew that she would appreciate the help. Alison drove home from college every weekend to help pack things up.
One Saturday afternoon, Grandma smiled broadly as she uncovered a box clearly forgotten. Alison helped her dig it out and opened it to find Grandma and Grandpa's record collection.
Alison carried the box upstairs to the living room and readied the old hi-fi purchased when her grandparents had moved into this house. Grandma was busy flipping through the collection, talking about the albums and the memories associated with them.
Grandma carefully slid an album from its cover and handed it to her granddaughter. "Side A, song number eight."
Alison carefully set the old needle at the start of the eighth song. Through the needle scratches, Artie Shaw's music rang out:
"When they begin the beguine
It brings back the sound of music so tender,
It brings back a night of tropical splendor,
It brings back a memory ever green."
Grandma's eyes began to tear up. Memories of her youth, of her long-departed husband courting her on the dance floor came flooding back ... memories that were ever green.
Rows of albums leaned against the stereo. Decades of favorites waited to be chosen. Each afternoon, this retired gentleman would glance through his record collection, pinpointing the one that would bring all that happiness back. Slipping the treasured vinyl out of its sleeve, he would hold it with a reverence before setting it down on the record player. When his wife was alive, she always made the selections for their afternoon dance. With the needle scratching to start this waltz, he held his tired arms up to grasp the air that used to surround his love in a dusty old living room.
Walking through the doors of Vintage Vinyl, a small 2nd hand record shop, the mix of patchouli incense and the scent of old moldy record jackets filled the air. As I was thumbing through my life alphabetically, Tea for the Tillerman, Threshold of a Dream, Led Zepplin, Uriah Heap, Tom Rush, Tommy and all the others help dust off the corners of a life long forgotten.
Then I heard a familiar sound that caught my attention...the hiss-pop anticipation of a needle on vinyl. MP3s go from silence to the music with no anticipation...a vinyl always builds to the song because you know when that hiss-pop starts...music will follow.
Francois Hardy..."Je t'aime" began to play. Francois Hardy was the hottest artist that summer in Europe. Everywhere there was music playing...there was Francois Hardy. I was back at the Cafe du Monde in Paris...1972 with my traveling companion, a French Canadian from Nestor Falls, Ontario. This was the departure we both dreaded. After 3 months of hitch hiking the Gold Coast of Spain to the hash bars of Amsterdam, she was headed back for school. Just like that Jackie Dumont walked out of my life just as she came in...no fanfare...just gone...
The song over, I gathered my composure, paid for my teenage son's White Stripes album and left the store. Once outside, I looked back once more. I could swear I saw the reflection of a French Canadian I once knew in the window.
Dan
I remember the big boxes, the wooden platform and the music. I was all of four years old, in the dining room of our house. I couldn’t tell you what the boxes were there for, other than maybe that my daddy brought them home for me from his work.
I remember my mommy was cleaning the house and she put on a new record, one that I’d not heard before. I found myself caught up in the world of Mickey Mouse, Chip-n-Dale, Donald Duck and Goofy. They sang songs that allowed me to be in the adventure with them. With the boxes around me, I’d find myself in roller coasters – going through tunnels – riding on the railroad tracks…it was amazing.
I remember, very much, of the world from the view of a four year old. The world was an exciting place, full of wonder and everything was new to me.
I remember mommy changing the record, again. It must be that she saw how amused I was with the adventure; maybe she was amused at watching me. The next one was the Elephant Walk…and the stomping and the melody, it carried me away into the world of the elephant. My mind was full of vision and life.
Those vinyl records, with their static and sticking, created a new world within my mind. It was the world of imagination; of stories and music…all found within this little person, this four year old girl.
Oh, I also remember the music that created my need to dance. I ran to get my clickety shoes, found that wooden platform and began tapping along with the music. Yes, I am sure that my mommy was quite amused with her little girl.
{this one IS true :o)}
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