Another pointless story...

Found myself in Fan Tan Alley today, kicking around this grungy record store that seemed like a transplant from the 1980s.  Old vinyls hung on the wall, and the entire place was cramped floor to ceiling with old records and CDs... even a section of cassettes (!).  Peeling posters hung on the wall, and behind glass were rare Led Zeppelin albums, alternate covers for Hendrix albums, and some weird album by Johnny Cash.  It was the type of place that seemed stained by cigarrette smoke, even though no one had smoked there for years.   

After poking around for a bit and finding an only slightly-mangled copy of Magical Mystery Tour for 15$, I asked the owner if he had any records by the Animals.  The owner seemed surprised by my question, a bit unsure of how to regard a 20-something asking about a B-list band that faded away in the 70s.  His stunned expression was kind of entertaining, considering he had a bushy beard, but a shaved chin - sort of the Easy Rider biker look, or something. 

Naturally, of course, he went into a long speech about the animals, as record store owners are wont to do.  He went on about the organ sound of the original Animals, and how Eric Burdon did some amazing stuff in the 1970s, and so on and so forth.  And his lackey would pipe in every few sentences with an observation of his own, usually one that consisted of shocked surprise when I'd say "Actually, I don't really know any yardbirds music" or "I've never really been a fan of the doors". 

Apparently, disliking the doors is enough to make a middle-aged music nerd start choking on air.  He kind of did a double take and then started coughing, his face turning a pretty shade of pink. 

But then, this is the type of guy that hangs out at a record store for hours on end every day.  The type of man who hit his mid-twenties and said "you know what?  I'm going to stop aging now" but failed to tell his body this - that man who got older and older, but stayed in the same place because it was comfortable.  He had a big stack of old records he was trading in for new old records. 

Eventually, the owner - assisted by his lackey- tried to press into my hands a copy of the original "The Animals Greatest Hits", and the lackey actually recoiled in horror when I said "no thanks, I already have that on my iTunes".  As if having iTunes is the worst sin imaginable.  You don't want a crystal clear copy of something made in the 60s, after all - you want the original printing, in the original packaging.  God forbid you just want to appreciate the music, right?

It's nice meeting people who are bigger music snobs than I.  It gives me a sense of perspective.  Makes me realize there's hope for me yet! 

Not that much hope, though.  I did blow almost forty bucks on ancient records, after all...

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