I was thoroughly spoilt with pressies on Christmas Day, and although my Other Half had said delayed delivery meant there was another gift to come, I assumed it was maybe a book or something small. He came home last night with this piece of awesomeness…..
Isn’t it gorgeous! Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while will have heard me talk about my love of vinyl before. It is big and bold and beautiful in a way that a CD or a download simply cannot compete with. It makes you want to frame it’s cover on the wall. It has it’s own body language, the delicate handiwork required to gently slide the vinyl from its sleeve, the fingertip handling of it edges as you slip it onto the record deck. Of course we already have a record player. In fact I think we have three…..but this one is sooooo pretty!
We set it up in the lounge last night, spun some singles and coloured vinyl, and sat on the floor next to it, hypnotised by the revolving plastic. Music connects me to myself like nothing else. I have been feeling a bit dull lately. Life with a small person keeps me at a distance from some of the things I love on a daily basis- live gigs are a rare treat, and music has to be censored and listened to at a sensible volume. But cross legged on my landlord beige carpet, watching spinning discs on this dinky little retro styled deck, I felt like a teenager again. A joyous little bubble of time travel, created by needle in groove. Love it.
If we had one complaint about this little piece of reproduced nostalgia, it is that it should have a battery compartment. Visions of picnic basket in one hand, and box of singles in the other, preferably both packed into the boot of the vintage car it isn’t currently practical for us to own abounded. Me in the front, with the record player on my full skirted lap as we go for a little jaunt in the sunshine. Finding the perfect secluded spot, and spending an afternoon in leaf dappled sunshine, with music and ginger beer….
Yes, pie in the sky daydreams, but a nice thought nonetheless!