Credit: Southland CD via Ebay
Never underestimate the value of loud music.
My stereo system went down a couple years ago. I didn't know where to go to get it fixed. So my turntable and receivers and speakers sat silent in a corner of my office below the framed Bruce Springsteen "Night for the Vietnam Veteran" poster. My vinyl collection on the bottom shelf of the bookcase remained unplayed. I went in and out of my office each day, consumed by one creative writing demand or another, until I slowly forgot I'd ever ended my work day with Side One of something extremely loud with lyrics that touched my soul.
Then my oldest son got me a new set of speakers for Christmas. State of the art. I couldn't very well leave them in the box, so I did a little research about getting my stereo fixed. Not surprisingly, people specializing in that sort of thing don't have a place at the mall, or even sandwiched between CVS and Board & Brew here in RSM. What I found was a little old man with an indiscriminate accent nestled in an industrial park ten miles away next to the 5 freeway, in a small cramped warren between a gym and a man selling golf carts. The stereo guy only takes cash. His workspace was floor to ceiling with all manner of audio equipment, much of it vintage.
"One week," he said, accepting $60 to begin the work.
Seven days later he called. I hit the ATM and headed down to pay the rest of the bill. We said our goodbyes and I said my thank yous, knowing I would come back to this sweet guy's shop if I ever had another problem, also wondering if he would be alive when that happened.
I am not good with electronics. Wires frustrate me. But I very carefully read the instruction manual for the new speakers and hooked everything up. Put a record on the turntable — The Blasters Greatest Hits. Pressed play.
Nothing happened.
But as the record kept spinning I reached around the back of the receiver and changed a couple output wires. Boom. The room exploded in rock and roll. I had music again. I began singing along at the top of my lungs, the music so loud I couldn't even hear myself. We have another turntable in the house but that's too civilized a space to crank the sound. But my office is primitive. No need for niceties.
Calene came into my office to tell me she was leaving to run an errand and I didn't even know she was there. Sometimes when you put something off, then put it off longer until it feels like a task you're never going to complete, no matter how small, it becomes a burden you don't even know you're carrying. So getting my music back put a big smile on my face. A weight was lifted.
Yesterday was Saturday. My team had a fantastic morning trail run in O'Neill. I went to Lowe’s and bought some soil for my new backyard project, a mini-forest. Look them up. Pretty cool. I practiced my guitar, worked on my French. Read. Watched two football games (poor Lions!), then migrated back to my office on a non-writing day and selected 180 grams of thick vinyl from the bottom shelf and dropped the needle.
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it up, turn it up.