A friend dropped me a message: "Do you want a bunch of records and other stuff? For free? I'm cleaning out my cousin's estate, and there are so many, I don't know what to do with them all."
I recognized the tone. She was overwhelmed, as so many of us are when we are faced with clearing out the homes of loved ones who have passed away.
"Sure," I replied. "I'll take them. " I don't sell records, actually, and know nothing about them, or the terminology that probably went with selling used ones. Used books have all kinds of terms--foxed, bumped corners, broken spine, marbled endpapers, etc. Those I have a nodding acquaintance with. But records? It would be new territory. I was feeling a little overwhelmed myself by all the garden produce coming in, the painting projects that needed to be finished, all the usual tasks that fill our days. Still, I figured the records could keep until I had time to look at them.
There were a lot. She wasn't kidding. Her cousin had been wheelchair bound all his 82 years. When his mother died, my friend and her husband built a house especially designed for the cousin and moved him next door to them. Designing the house meant more than just wheelchair accessibility, because this man had a unique hobby: he had a small radio station on which he played his kind of music--big band, swing, musicals of the mid-1900's, Rat Pack, etc. He also had a ham radio setup. Wheelchair-bound he might have been, but this was one busy, creative guy. My friend and her husband took care of him as far as travel, helping with shopping, doctor visits, etc., but for the most part the cousin was independent. It still amazes me to think of it, and I sure wish I'd met him.
But the records. And the CDs. And cassettes. And 5 1/4" old computer discs--remember them? There were 45's, 33's, even 78's, some of them at least a quarter inch thick. Some records were in those old album sets. We loaded all of it into the van and told our friend that probably we'd take the cassettes to a thrift store. She knew we'd probably sell what was good, and donate or trash the rest depending on condition and so forth. The van was full, front to back.
We did drop off a few cassettes to a thrift, but many of the were recordings of the cousin's radio shows, which they did not want. We figured those would have to go in the trash. On the way out of town we stopped at the local Goodwill, just for a quick look. You never know, right? Last week I found a signed Blenko glass bowl there, after all. As I was browsing, I heard a staff member tell a young man that there were more albums in the back of the store. My ears perked up. Someone was looking for albums?
So I walked over and asked the man, "Are you interested in old records?"
Yeah, he said. I love all kinds of music. Especially old music.
Well, I told him, I have a whole van full of records outside. Wanna have a look?
Indeed he did. So this stranger and I met Larry at the van, and the young guy's eyes about bugged out when he saw what we had. The cassettes of radio shows thrilled him. "I drive this vehicle just because it has a cassette player," he said, beaming.
We gave him the whole load. He was absolutely thrilled as he carted all of it to his SUV. "I have been so bored during this lockdown, but I have plenty to listen to now," he said.
Maybe there were some records in there worth real money. I don't know. I got all I wanted from them just seeing the joy on that young man's face. Larry and I both smile whenever we talk about him. My friend was happy too, that her cousin's treasured collection and tapes are with someone who values them as much as he did.
This world is a big place, but sometimes it seems so small. And so wonderful.
