And as I've also previously mentioned, I am not really into Barbra Streisand and Barry Manilow (ANYMORE!) so we've been switching things out. AND! It fixed itself! No more LOUD popping and scratching! My wonderful and generous friends and their spectacular mothers have been collecting 45s to help in our endeavors to curate the greatest jukebox (or at least the greatest jukebox ever in my basement). So when Lindsey's mom Valerie handed me THIS I might have squeed my pants a little! If you can't tell it's a box of hundreds of smelly, dusty, absolutely dreamy 45s.
As I started sifting, a few records hit me as a little odd...
But who am I to judge Dicky and his Oomp Waddle?
The next one had me questioning Lindsey's psychological state as a child, seeing as how her mom bought her this:
Cheaper than counseling? (also: We care about you. We really, really do. And you are funny, I promise.)
The next one seems like an innocuous, albeit strange Christmas song:
Upon closer inspection, I saw this curious categorization.
And here we are, after plenty of sifting through hundreds of obviously stolen records (as evidenced by the writing: "Betty's - do not steal") I found my pay dirt:
I could kiss them. Thanks Val and Kathie and Kaity and anyone else who has boxes of old 45s they would like to donate to the cause!
We are on still on the hunt for some Zeppelin, Elvis Costello, Neil Young, Queen, Pink Floyd, Crosby, Stills... , CCR, Bob Marley, Tom Petty and anything else that is awesome. New stuff, too, which is nearly impossible to find. Who doesn't love the soft scratch of a 45 cuing up?
(Cuing? Really, that's a word.)