Because I know cool people, I will assume that those reading this have an idea what the image above is of.
It belongs to Alex. He and a mate got three or so jukeboxes to fix up for a friend's 18th and each kept one.
But it's not just any ol' jukebox. No. Looksy here -
Not long ago Sophie's husband told me that I might be mistaken about being the cradle robber of the relationship since Alex's penchant for Jimmy Barnes showed him out as a 40-something old man. That he has a jukebox that plays 45 rpm records might be another reason to ponder if our age difference isn't reversed. (We can take into consideration my level of immaturity and that all one requires to reduce me to crying fits of laughter is the single word 'dookie', but let's not just now.)
But Alex having a jukebox is not even the story I want to share today.
The story is that we've had two small boxes packed to capacity with extra records and a heap of things on the jukebox that neither of us cared overly for.
A couple weeks back on a particulary homey weekend I said we should organize the records and replace the ones we never listened to with ones we actually would. The jukebox is old and often pulls the wrong number after you punch one in, but I'm okay with that. Long as it pulls randomly from stuff I like.
In an act of organizational chaos our lounge soon looked like this:
With little piles cropping up like so.
Not everything was singles. Or anything we recognized. There were many duplicats of Bros, for instance. I don't know who they are, and we didn't play a record by them. Their blond visages sorta wigged me out. Now that I know, thanks to the wonders of wikipedia, that they were managed by a guy who had managed Pet Shop Boys, I might not have minded them it turns out.
I was amused that Cordelia was so keen to protect some of the records.
She had every reason to though. Hidden deep at the bottom of Alex's second hand 45rpm stash was this shining beauty, representative of all my hippie childhood of the 1980s could possibly offer of goodness:
And that, my friends, is the story I wanted to share with you.
How I came to own a read along copy of The Dark Crystal on 45rpm record.
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