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Life Revisited - Music Part 6

Updated on March 11, 2014

So the negotiations began with my now solid track record of my affinity for music. This followed with my concern for my new album. Then my plan. I asked them for a small increase in my allowance in proportion to my increased duties. I explained my plan to seek an abundance of new lawn mowing contracts. Then I asked for an advance on my birthday and Christmas presents. They were hip. No problem. I think they were excited too. The hobby was good. They liked music. I came to the table with a plan. We raised a smart ambitious kid. But there was a dollar amount range. No problem. I am stoked to the ceiling! I can't wait to go to the stereo store! I would learn that the stereo store is even harder to walk out of than the music store!

Zero hour, 9 am. And I'm gonna be...still sleeping Elton. More like 1pm on a Saturday. Bike locked outside the stereo store. Pause at entrance. Brace yourself, breathe. I walk in to the "acoustically perfect to my ears" store and look around at what could be the most beautiful space I've entered to date. Shelves upon shelves of amps, tuners, turntables, equalizers, some reel to reel players and the biggest speakers ever. These were the days before Bose made it cool to have small speakers. Size mattered! Look at all the awesome stereo lights. The house lights were dimmed for the ultimate eye stimulation. The distinct smell of the store. The smell of success! I could be here for hours. What the...? Salesman with white patent leather shoes and matching belt with a combover. Didn't think twice about it. That was acceptable fashion back then. My parent's generation is still apologizing for the fashion and the bad hair choices. I published a graphic novel entitled The Baldmen Vs. Captain Combover in case your interested. Inspired by my Father. He wore the combover too :(

The journey begins. Bang Olufsen is the first eye popper...the sleek look...oh, the price. I stop to look anyway. Don't want to show my hand right away. Pretend to mull it over in my mind as I gaze upon the future of sound. White shoes doesn't come over. He probably saw me lock up my bike. What?!, it's an ITOH. It looks like a Schwinn. I'm frugal. I mean my parents are frugal. It was a gift. Anyway, I leave the "city" of the store and head off towards the "suburbs" of the store. Apparently the merchandise is on the shelves according to price. I notice this by checking the huge price tags, probably 5x7. White with a design around the perimeter. The price written in black marker. It hangs by a somewhat thick white string. I notice that the closer I get to my perceived price range, the closer white shoes gets. He's closing in. I must be close. Should I mess with him and go back to the Bang Olufsen? Nah. Some pre calculated math is floating around in my head. Needs are an amp/tuner. Still acceptable for my age. We'll get the separate amp and tuner further on down the road. Turntable, already given my letter of intent to Technics. Speakers. These are the essentials, the starter kit. Surprisingly, it didn't take me long to make my choices. I was not a connoisseur. Spell check for that word. Anything I got was 10 times better than I had. I picked out my Technics turntable first. Didn't need top of the line. Pioneer HPM 100's won the speaker contest. Big speakers independent of the amp/tuner. The amp/tuner went to Pioneer also. Great lights! For my knowledge of equipment at that time, aesthetics played a large part. Big tuning dial to hone in on your favorite station like you were trying to crack a safe. I had been in this specific area of the store for a bit now with no intention of moving out into the "country" of the store. The analogy being the city being the most expensive, the country the least expensive. Felt like I needed to clarify. So combover, well, he came over. Thanks, I'll be here all week!

I told leisure suit guy...I could go on and on...I told him what I wanted and that I would be back with my parents in their "ride." That's the name of my parent's car when I'm speaking to the salesman who said upon introduction "What's up sport." He called me sport. So now my Parents are my P's and their car is now their ride. I can talk jive, turkey!

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