Record Hauls No. 14, 15, and 16
Buckingham Nicks - s/t
The Raisins - s/t
Abba - Greatest Hits
Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin I
Warren Zevon - Excitable Boy
Cocteau Twins - Bluebell Knoll
Tones On Tail - Pop
Kansas - Leftoverture
Yes - The Yes Album
Percy Faith - The Beatles Album
Dylan Thomas Reads A Child’s Christmas in Wales
The Edgar Winter Group - They Only Come Out At Night
Herb Albert & The Tijuana Brass - The Christmas Album
Engelbert Humperdinck - We Made It Happen
The moment we purchased the shag rug, I knew it belonged in my life. The room made sense. ABBA made sense. I started buying albums for that rug; the synthetic beast from China had its talons in me. Its soft, soft, shaggy talons.
One night while J was still away in England, I went out to buy sausages and contact lens solution from the grocery store and ended up taking an hour detour because I suddenly had to buy a Led Zeppelin record. For the rug? Possibly. Probably. The desperation of the errand made it feel like I was on a tampon run. I think I may have been wearing my pajamas. I made it back home, ripped open the brown paper bag and spent all night lying on that rug listening to Jimmy Page play guitar like he’d invented rock and roll. (I think Jimmy Page would really like our rug.)
This morning I shuffled across the rug, kneeling into its depths to put on Kansas and Percy Faith. I’m turning us whiter and more midwestern one needle drop at a time, swollen with Grand Funk and bongos. The rug is putting ideas in my head for fondue parties and a wardrobe of deep green chiffon evening dresses. I instigate slow dances.
I am not alone: my cousin and his partner recently brought their own record haul to our house, spreading them out on the rug: Dionne Warwick, Stevie Wonder, Bare Trees, Court and Spark. A gift to the rug gods. It looked like Our Lady of the Shag had given virgin birth.
What is it in these old records I love so much? Why do I keep feeding this addiction? Probably there’s something comforting in bringing an older time back to life. Maybe there’s even something to it that makes me feel the tiniest bit immortal. Maybe it hints at the possibility of aural time travel.
Or maybe, in all likelihood? They just go with the rug.
(Previously: Albums Purchased One Hot Weekend, Record Haul, Record Haul No. 2, Record Haul No. 3, Record Haul No. 4, Record Haul No. 5, Record Haul No. 6, Record Haul No. 7, Record Haul No. 8, Record Haul No. 9, Record Haul No. 10, Record Haul No. 11, Record Haul No. 12, Record Haul No. 13)