Today's Surprise Find

Susan wanted to go the Woodstock Market (an antiques and crafts market not too far from here) for their Christmas Open House this weekend, so we headed up there this afternoon. My plan was to stop at the Woodstock Antiques Mall across the street and check with a vinyl records dealer there to see if there was anything I might want at a price I might be willing to pay. There wasn't (stuff I wanted--yes; price I would pay--no!), but I did make a lucky find at the Woodstock Market.

One of the dealers there had a copy of the 1977 Reader's Digest--An Old Fashioned Christmas 6 album boxed set for $10 minus 20%--making it just a little more than a buck a record. Even better, I don't think this set has ever been played.

If you didn't grow up with the Reader's Digest mix of traditional, easy listening, and light country holiday songs, then this set will have no appeal to you at all. But this is the sort of Christmas music that Dad loved, so I heard the songs from this set many times over the years.

I was particularly pleased to discover that, as far as I can determine, this set has never been played. None of the albums showed the slightest sign of play or wear--not even the most minor spindle-wear at the center. There was no surface noise, no scuffing, no scratching--just great sound. I look forward to hearing this one as the holidays approach.

A few hours later, while I was waiting on Mellow Mushroom to get my pizza ready (house special, hold the onions, add kalamata olives), I stopped at the Goodwill in the same shopping center and checked through their records. Two finds there: Al Hirt's Brassman's Holiday and Mantovani at the Movies, both in fine to excellent condition (vinyl) with very good covers, for only 77¢ each. While neither was on my vinyl want list, each was an interesting flashback to my childhood, so they were worth the buck and a half that the pair cost.

Shopping for vinyl continues to amuse me; it's something I haven't done in many years, and I have to confess that the larger album size, the clearer graphics, and the ritual that goes with an album is somehow more alluring than the musical experience of a CD.

Susan saw a small sign at the Woodstock Market that I found amusing: "The Antiquer's Lament: Grandma had it, Mom got rid of it, I'm buying it again." For me, there's a musical version. "The Album Collector's Lament: I had it. I got rid of it when I bought the CD. Now I'm buying the album again."