I Made some progress but with much emotion as today was a bittersweet day. It was time to depart with something I knew I probably shouldn’t take to the Philippines. When downsizing or preparing to move, there is always something that must be sacrificed. Yesterday I received yet another call from my Craigslist post about my antique RCA stereo record player I have listed for sale. Now usually most calls from things I’ve advertised on Craigslist are serious and results in a rather quick disposition of whatever it is I’m trying to sell. With this particular item, I’ve received about 15 inquiries, 14 of which all seemed to be serious. Usually when they say they want it and they will call back to make arrangements to come pick it up, it happens just that way. Only with this item, nobody ever has showed up and lately, it hasn’t really bothered me. I’ve since adopted the attitude with this item that I don’t care if it sells or not. If it must come with me, so be it!
Today was different. Not only did this guy call yesterday, he called three times yesterday and once this morning and showed up promptly. It must have been all the 45’s that I added to any full price offer I received.
So, I take the cabinet out to the garage, wipe it down one last time and then, the meanderthal (meandering as described in a previous post) in me kicked in. I plugged it in and began playing some of the old 45 records my dad had given to me years before. These weren’t just any records. They came out of the jukebox that my parents, as proprietors, operated at the Valley View Truck Stop on Hwy 41, three miles north of Lowell, Indiana. That was way back in 1966. I had some time to listen to Patsy Cline, Marty Robbins, and Connie Smith. Wow! How classic.
I was listening to one of my favorites as a kid growing up – Jimmy Dean’s “Please Pass the Bisquits” when he drove up. Why that song struck me as being funny when I was 12 years old I’ll never know…maybe it was Jimmy’s southern accent.
But here he was …. [remember the buyer?] ….now standing next to me listening to Jimmy Dean. As the song played on, serious thoughts of reneging on this deal crept up and lodged in my mind. How fun would it be to sit on my front porch with my record player, spinning 45’s while drinking San Miguel! As that thought passed and the record ended, I looked at him and he spouts “it sounds good!” At that moment I thought that if anybody else could stand there and appreciate Jimmy Dean singing “Please Pass the Bisquets” like I did, then he was deserving enough to have my records. I unplugged the player, he handed me the cash, we loaded it up, and just like that, all those old memories headed off west to Oxford, MS.
It’s tough some days.