Play me a Record, Record Playa

I decided our home office needed some new chairs. We had been sitting on childrens’ stools since we moved in, and it was time for a proper upgrade.

I hit Craigslist and plugged in my search criteria. It didn’t take long till I stumbled across a pair of mid-century modern(esque) chairs for $10. They were reproductions, but not only totally suited our needs, but my pocketbook as well. I commenced my email communication and got a quick response. The seller said, “The chairs are yours, and feel free to bring some extra cash because we have an entire loft of vintage furniture for sale.” Um, he didn’t have to ask me twice – what time should I be there?!!

So, my boyfriend and I set off to a loft in downtown LA to pick up the chairs armed with some extra cash in the event I stumbled across something else I couldn’t live without. While the owner was giving us the nickel tour, he uncovered under a mass of things a record player console. He said it worked great and he’d picked it up at the Salvation Army for $20. Thus, we could have it for $20. While trying to mask my unbridled enthusiasm, I quickly whipped out a $20 bill and said, “Yes, we’d very much like to have that.”

We wrestled it into my Jeep and hustled it home, discussing the whole way, where would would we place this gem? This is not JUST any old record player. This is a pristine console unit from London, circa 1950 and I had just paid a mere $20 for it. I was giddy! 

It found its place on a perfect wall and waited for us as we rushed down to our local thrift store to find some records to play. After searching through endless stacks of retro vinyl, we hurried home with a conservative stack including Aretha, Barbra, some big band and jazz standards, and the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever, among others.

Barely in the door, I was poised in dance stance eagerly awaiting my boyfriend to fire that baby up. The needle hit the record in an old-school, crackly way and our favorite big band number “In the Mood” started to play. My boyfriend grabbed me around the waist and twirled me around the living room. The sound resonated off the floor as we skipped around in delight.

I was whisked away to another time whirling around in an a-line party dress, my boyfriend clad in something retro chic, neither of us ever missing a step. The song ended and we stopped. We looked at each other, thrilled, waiting with anticipation, through the 7-second crackle delay, for the next song to start.

It was truly a magnificent score. It is musical transcendence. It is our record playa!

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