Some Boys Are Just Born With…

When I was growing up and coming of age, vinyl (and to a lesser extent, cassettes) were the only real choices. Yeah, there was reel-to-reel tape, but who could afford that? Nearly all of my musical memories are tied to vinyl, with the exception of a half dozen or so CDs that really stand out in my memory.

CDs may come and go from my life (and as I’ve mentioned here several times, all of them did go after the fire two years ago), but after purging all my vinyl in the late 1980s and rebuilding and augmenting my collection in the 90s through today,  vinyl is forever. Even if I don’t play it nearly as much as I’d like to.

And while I may balk at paying $35 for a new (or reissued) release, when you take inflation into account, that price is actually on par with the $5-10 I’d pay for stuff back in the day.

 

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Ah, Youth

Reminds me of a time back in college when my friend Peter and I were out shopping and I was trying on jeans. (I think they were Jordache, but don’t hold me to that.) When I came out of the fitting room wearing a pair, he yelled from about thirty feet away, “I can see it from here!”

Good times.

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Hmmm…

I’ve never paid for sex per se, but I’ve had massages that turned into sex. (Okay, he was a masseur who advertised in the back pages of the Bay Area Reporter, so…) Does that count?

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A Programming Note

To my Subscribers:

I’m busy re-posting items from the version of Voenix Rising that I deleted prior to moving to Denver via The Wayback Machine, so if you get email notifications of new posts, they aren’t actually new…they’re just…rediscovered.

Because I’ve got nothing better to do. Like cataloging my vinyl collection.

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