Put Your Records On

A few months ago I received a text from the roommate informing me that she had just picked up a record player for the house. Cool, I thought. We don't own any records, but that's still fun. Then I got home and found that the record player was actually a piece of furniture that was the size of our couch. And also looked like it came straight from my grandparents basement.

But this is coming from a girl who only owns a dresser, bookshelf and two Adirondack chairs. So, I can't really complain about the roommate's furniture choices.

We established that it was massive. We also established that it did not work.

Many a Saturday morning I would walk out of my bedroom to find our favorite AV friend, wearing his tool belt, tinkering behind it. Time went by and a new turntable arrived by mail. More time went by and the turntable sat in the box. Then, one Saturday "morning" (it's possible that it was Noon) I stumbled out of my bedroom and found our favorite AV friend + his friend doing more tinkering. By the time they left there was sweet, sweet music blasting through those speakers.

And now I'm obsessed.

I always want to have a record playing when I'm home. Last night as my mom, aunt and I were preparing food for a family gathering today, I put on a Simon & Garfunkel record and sang Cecilia loudly while dancing in kitchen. It doesn't get better than that.

Now I just need to invest in a record collection. Because Simon & Garfunkel and Whitney Houston just aren't going to cut it.