Thursday, January 2, 2014

Mr. Moon's Christmas present for me just got here today.
A record player.

It's been a really hard day. I went to town and did things with my grandsons and their mama. We went by the bank where Boppy has an office for Lily to do a little business and then we went to lunch at a Chinese restaurant so that Owen could get noodles. That's all he wants to eat in a restaurant these days. Noodles. And the soup. He loves the brothy soups.
And then we went to the grocery store and I was so far away all day long and every time I tried to bring myself back, to try and act normal, I felt like an alien trying to fake being a human.
"So. Do you think the Giants will win the pennant this year?"
But I tried.

And then I came home and laid down because sleep is my only real escape. For a few minutes I can let go all the worry, the panic, the sick feeling in the stomach. The constant dread. I am so grateful I can sleep. Pure escape and I'll fucking take it.

But then Mr. Moon came home with my record player and we opened up the box and unpacked it and read the instructions and I noted with great satisfaction that it has DIALS not stupid-dumb-damn buttons to change the volume and the stations on the radio (it's an AM-FM radio and a CD player and will also play your iPod or phone, as well, of course, but still- dials!) and we set it up and I went into the library and searched the dark corner where all of my antique record albums are stashed and I got out a Beatle's album and put it on and raised up the tone arm with that delicate motion the hand does not forget and set the needle (the needle!) down and it played.

They say you want a Revolution and Paul screams his throat out and when the album started there was a tiny hiss, pop, scratch. This is the medium the music I love was recorded to play on. Before eight-tracks, before cassettes, before CD's with their false promise of immortality, before the MP3.

I am drinking a beer, I am writing this. I am listening to the Beatles. Maybe next, this:

Think that record will have a few scratches? That may be the original album I got from my friend David on my seventeenth (or was it my eighteenth?) birthday.

I have Bob and Bruce. I have the Band and I have Joan Baez. I have Cream and Joni Mitchell and I have Clapton. I have John and Yoko.

I have so much crazy but I have all of that.

Here's a little video I made to send to Owen.

Christ you know it ain't easy. 
You know how hard it can be.

I have music in the form of black discs which came encased in beautiful cardboard artwork.

Let It Be. Let It Be. Let It Be.

All Things Must Pass.

Thank-you, husband. I love you.

Ms. Moon


  1. I love this and I just love you. I loved hearing your voice so sweet and loving talking to Owen who will -- wait already does-- know good music when he hears it. Make sure you teach him about putting a nickel on the needle so it won't skip. Oh yeah.

    BTdubs--I just got back from Cozumel and I swear to you that I thought of you constantly. I touched the streets and walls and shook hands with people and laughed very loudly just because felt I was carrying you there with me and that it was the right thing to do. Happy New Year, my friend. And I do consider you a real one not a virtual one.

  2. I love your new record player! Mr. Moon got you the best gift I've seen this year.
    I love all my old records and will never get rid of them, not as long as they play. I still have my turntable from the late 70's or was it the early 80's? I have to hook it up special to my stereo tv receiver thing, but when we do, we call it dj night and let the good times roll.
    You picked a great first album to christen it with. Thanks for sharing the video and your voice too.
    xo and Happy New Year

    ps I know all about that trying to act normal. Its draining.

  3. Gradydoctor- You have me weeping. Oh, to think of you and your sweet man in the place I love the most.
    I can't even tell you.
    I'm about to break out in the ugly cry. But it's okay. I need to.

    Mel- God. Trying to act normal is the worst. My husband is so sweet to give me that present. My hallway is going to be cluttered with actual albums now. Ah-lah. Thank you for being here. You bring me comfort.

  4. "It took me so long to find out,
    I found out"

  5. someone i used to know well had this quote tattooed on them:

    i heard a record and it opened my eyes- (band pretty girls make graves)

    just keep on truckin'


  6. Your video cracked me up! And there's your voice!!!!

    XXX B

  7. Oh, I'm sorry you aren't feeling real right now. Uggh. I think the humans are meant to hibernate a little at this time of year, don't you? Wake up in April?
    Enjoy the music!

  8. L7- I ain't no day tripper. As you know. Love you so fiercely.

    Mrs. A- Records are real and tangible. One step down from tattoos. Amen.

    Beth Coyote- That's what my grandboys hear. "Give me some gugga."

    Betsy- If I survive this bout of shit, it'll be a miracle. I am not kidding you.

  9. I guess we're back to channeling each other -- I didn't set up a record player today, but I did bring back here and set up an old timey radio player that belonged to my grandmother. It has a cassette player in the back. I love it.

  10. One of my most favorite memories is listening to records with my best friend in high school. Her mom had the most amazing collection of albums and it included quite a few from the Beatles. My most vivid memory is actually of listening to the Beatles specifically. This post just reached out and totally grabbed my heart because of that memory. Wow.

  11. SJ- I have a few cassettes. Lord.

    Jill- The Beatles were and always will be magical. I stand by that one.

  12. That is truly a great gift and I think it comes at a good time for you. Sweet Jo

  13. I love your record player and I loved hearing your voice. Beer and Bob and Bruce. Sometimes I forget that the simple things can be a cure. This helps me to remember. And I am happy to think of you this way, there in Florida. And I hope you feel so much better, soon.

  14. Oh, my god. I love all of this -- as everyone else said. What it made me think of and lovingly remember is when I'd sit on the floor of my bedroom and play albums with my little sister -- she was only a baby, really, when I was a teenager, and she'd clap her hands when I'd play. Oh, Mary, may this gift restore you even the tiniest bit!

  15. What a great present! And let me just say it sounds like you have a FABULOUS music collection, greatly resembling my own. I don't have my vinyl anymore, though. I do remember the motion and the crack-pop-hiss, certainly, but the durability of CDs is hard to beat.

  16. Sweet Jo- Yep. On both of those. Great gift, arrived at the correct time.

    Ms. Vesuvius- Thank you, sweetness. So much.

    Elizabeth- I used to play records for my baby brothers, too! It was a joy to share my music. And now I share it with Owen.

    Steve Reed- I don't think that CD's are that durable or maybe we just mistreat ours. I don't know. Anyway, it's nice to pull the old vinyl out and set it on the turntable again.

  17. Perfect! AND it plays your ipod? Wow. I was looking yearningly at record players the other day - I bought Niall one years ago but he took the amp and speakers to the studio and now we can't play it :(

  18. We bought our son a record player for Christmas and to hear Billy Joel's "Glass Houses" on vinyl again, well, it's just something.
    As a kid I remember my parents having every Beatles album and listening to them fiercely while studying the album art.
    Albums were art.

  19. That is the most romantic present I can possibly imagine. I'm picturing the lights down low. Beer. Martinis. Dancing. Black vinyl spinning round. Clothes on the floor.

  20. Oh yes, me too. This one is just one-timey shape and with dials too.

  21. Fantastic! Hi there, and Happy New Year. I'm sorry about your tooth.

  22. What a truly fabulous and thoughtful gift. I'm so sorry things feel so hard right now. I wish I could make it better. But since I can't, I can sit with you on the floor listening to that music that unclenches the soul. Feel what you feel. I'm here with you. We all are. Holding you.

  23. Jo- Well, theoretically it would play my iPod. IF my iPod were functioning.

    heartinhand- You are exactly right. Albums were art. In so many ways.

    Denise- Well, no clothes on the floor. Anxiety removes appetite in my experience. Shitfuck.

    SJ- I love those dials. Love them.

    Stephanie- How ARE you, woman? I am thinking of you, hoping that you are well.

    Angella- And I am holding you with all my heart.

  24. So very nice. We are actually thinking about selling all of our LP's. We don't listen to them anymore. But now you have made me wonder whether we shouldn't clean them up and try again. LOL.


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