Vacationland

It is impossible to be grumpy about anything, even being stuck for hours in holiday weekend traffic outside of Boston, when you are able to watch the sun set over Western Bay, eat soft shell lobsters for dinner while early fireworks sparkle over the island across the way, and then be perfectly gobsmacked by all those HUGE stars smeared across the black velvet sky.

Hello, Maine!

Platters

Rain made us cut short our bike ride this morning, but truth be told, I didn't mind all that much. After several hours on the road yesterday and a lengthy road trip scheduled for tomorrow, a day of relaxing at home seemed like a good idea. Oh, we played some cards and even a few rounds of bocce when the weather cleared up a bit, but it was around noon that I found the focus of my day.

Knowing I would be away from home for a couple of weeks, I packed up my newest toy, the turn table, and all of my records to bring along with me. We hadn't been in Heidi's parents' house more than half an hour when I pulled it out and set it up. It was a big hit. "We have tons of records upstairs," her mom told me, and she was not exaggerating.

Over the next day, we hauled at least 300 45 rpm discs down to the kitchen. I cannot tell you how much fun it was for me to sort through them and listen to the ones I knew or wanted to hear. Somewhere along the way I got it into my head that they should be sorted, and that is what I ended up doing today.

On my first go round, I simply separated them into 24 alphabetical stacks by artist. As I worked, I tried to match the sleeves with the 45s, too. After that, I put all the records by the same artist in any particular letter group together.

While that might seem like a lot of work, for me it was an awesome afternoon. I put my hands on every single record, read the title and artist, and played the ones I wanted to hear. The collection spanned four decades from the 40s to the 80s, and included a few on the Sun label by Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, and Roy Orbison. There were copies of 45s I owned myself, including Tracy by the Cufflinks. There was also an early recording by Carol King, several from the Shirelles, lots of Sinatra, the Everly Brothers, Paul Anka, Brenda Lee, and Elvis.

There was a perfect little gem I was happy to blast called Birthday Party, some awesome big band, a couple of jazz combos, and a Crystal Gayle tune I hadn't heard in ages.

When I was finished, we stowed them all in new bins, ready to be explored again soon, but also organized for anyone who might be looking for something in particular, like maybe anything Jackie Wilson ever recorded. (Bottom bin, in the back.)

Honey Do List

I was cleaning out my desk last week before locking it up for the summer when I came across a little clipping from our monthly wellness newsletter that I had stowed away there several years ago and forgotten ever since. List 20 things that you love to do that generate feelings of joy and vitality for you, it read. Try to do these things within one month. I could see why I might cut out such a thing, and I stuck it in my writing notebook and continued tidying up.

The occasion of my birthday seemed like the perfect time to do the exercise, and so before anyone else got up this morning, I took my coffee and notebook out to the back patio and sat down to make my list.

Ride my bike, I started. Hike in Maine. Eat lobster, Work in the garden; Have fresh-picked sliced tomatoes for dinner. Read outside, drink iced tea and lemonade. Learn something, go some place new, visit a museum. Play my ukulele, build a fire, grill steaks and corn on the cob. Hunt for sea glass and smooth rocks, catch fireflies, let them go, have a water balloon fight, walk to go out for dinner, go to the movies. Listen to jazz records, go swimming, drink beer.

I paused to regard my list-- this was going to be a cinch!

Then I wondered. Am I cheating or am I charmed?

I think it's pretty clear.

Triptik

I was never actually a member of AAA, but I do remember being extremely impressed by the "triptik" one of my college friends, who did belong, acquired before a road trip. Spiral bound at the top, the 4 x 11 custom organizer had section by section directions for our trip with the route helpfully highlighted in neon pink. On either side of the road map, there were tips for the traveler on local interests. When the AAA agent handed us our packet, accompanied by all the appropriate full regional maps, I nearly swooned at its cogent plenitude.

Flash forward 30+ years when we all carry computers in our pockets, and I will tell you that I was quite pleased with the route to Buffalo that my phone chose for us today. Highlighted turn-by-turn in a strong royal blue, we were even able to find a quick drive-around when we hit a little back-up due to construction. Oh, I could have searched for local attractions, but I was too busy enjoying the forests and mountains and scenic little towns that presented themselves along away.

Along the way, though, I did pause to appreciate those  AAA agents of yore with their amazing triptik system who were able to accomplish much the same thing, long before the internet was a thing.

Empty Nest

So, today we helped Josh move the rest of his stuff to his new apartment.

20/20

I am as nostalgic as the next person, if not more so, but on this day when my brand-new record player was delivered (free and overnight from a GIANT of the internets) I am focused more on what's good about the now.

I guess it's the clear discrepancy between young and older voters in the Brexit referendum and the Sanders/Clinton race, as well as Donald Trump's slogan Make America Great Again that reminds me that the past is usually viewed as halcyon. Still, deeper recollection should convince us that there have always been scary things.

And what makes us forget them?

Is hindsight.

Media Coverage

I clearly remember the first CD player I ever bought. In 1986, the $300 it cost seemed like such an extravagance that I could only afford two discs to go with it. After much deliberation, I chose Brothers in Arms by Dire Straits and So by Peter Gabriel, which both turned out to be iconic albums of the 80s. Back then, the whirrrrrrr of the disc spinning sounded like the future, and we marveled at the clarity of sound that our new gadget provided, and the convenience it added to making mixed tapes.

These days, our library of nearly 500 CDs sits dormant as we, like many folks, stream most of the music we listen to electronically. The miracle of holding thousands of songs in your hand has waned to banality.

So, with my end-of-the-year giftcard I decided to buy a record player.

All my vinyl records and I were separated sometime ago, and although there is a chance some of them may be recovered, I found myself in the oddly parallel situation to that of 30 years ago of purchasing a device without anything to play on it. This time, the player was relatively inexpensive, but the records? Not so much.

In the end I bought four: Meet the Beatles, an original copy of the first LP I ever owned (my teen-aged cousins bought it for me when I was two), a Charlie Brown themed jazz album by Vince Guaraldi, Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, and The Eagles Greatest Hits, an album my mother played over and over while cleaning the house on the weekends when we were teens. We had that one on 8 track, though.

8-track?

Who knows?

Never say never.