Monday I finally got my turntable back from the guy who was repairing it. We had been emailing back and forth for a few days, and my anxiousness was showing. Around noon I took a break from work and drove to his house to pick it up. Not only did it have a brand new cartridge and stylus, but he cleaned the gears that operated the arm and showed me how to use the automatic play function. No longer will I have to worry about dropping the needle too aggressively. When I got home from work I wasted no time in putting something on. My inaugural choice was the first lesser-known find I came across at a record store: Zero Zero's Am Gold (on clear orange vinyl!) One of my roommates came home and suggested we continue a tradition he'd been keeping strong for over a month now and have dinner at the WAB.
We grabbed a table by a window and placed our food orders with side orders of their amazing honey mustard. At the DIY Street Fair I learned that it's Dearborn brand and before long will be buying jar after jar of it. For the evening, it was good enough to have as a side for my potato chips as we jawed about our girl situations. Two pints of beer and two hours of conversation later, I re-realized why he's one of my best friends. The two of us are alike in just the right ways for a dependable relationship. We have our differences, sure, but it's not like anyone we know is exactly like ourselves. And really, who wants to be friends with their doppelganger?
We came home and I went right to sleep. My night was full of strange and disturbing dreams; borderline nightmares. I bolted right out of bed when my alarm went off, which is the song "Good Day Sunshine" by the Beatles. Rain was pouring outside my window and the clouds made the sky very dark. Or maybe it was the shortening daylight. That time of year, I suppose. One of my roommates had already left for work, and the other was on his way out the door when I came downstairs. By the time I've ground some coffee beans and gotten in the shower I have the house to myself. A functioning automatic record player is going to make filling my morning with music that much easier. Today it was side A of The Ivory Coast's Clouds. I thought about a review I read once which bashed the album, and called out "Five Little Graves" as being particularly terrible, which is my favorite song on the album.
Sometimes all you can do is stand by your opinions.
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