They were safe during the flood, stashed in old shoeboxes on the upper shelf of a closet. Out of sight, out of mind saved them.
My old 45 records. When the bin came home from storage that they’d been put in as we cleared the house, I decided they needed a really solid and classy case of some kind, befitting vintage survivors of the storm. I found these online–mostly used by deejays and musicians and collectors of rarities, I suspect, but my records are just as special to me. There are a LOT of good memories etched into that vinyl along with the music.
Their new home to be.
Ready for sorting.
When it comes to band names, the alphabet is hard.
Little Eva Destruction (that’s what Tim calls her, so it’s her new DJ name) our foster dog says, “What can I spin for you?”
Wouldn’t it be funny if you asked and I had it. No, Marika, I DON’T have that. Not on 45, anyway.