Love of Record Stores

I remember a used-LP shop (though not its name) with fondness, and not just because I shopped there once or twice without my shoes. There was a pleasant period of my life (among thankfully many wonderful periods) when I collected opera sets. I stopped at some point, because I realized I’d more than enough to listen to (including three or four Ring des Nibelungen recordings). But I think this was the place where I purchased a Verdi opera on the Cetra Everest label, with that series’ simple, gold and white box that for me was somehow appealing and reminiscent of my first purchases of used classical LPs.

Likely needing a “humor risk” (as I describe elsewhere in these thoughts), I drove over to the shop, which was located beneath another store. Parking nearby, I tiptoed down the steps and browsed the selection. What a nice errand!

Thinking about the place, I don’t recall the walls other than they contained posters and cover art and the like; I recall a wonderfully casual atmosphere, counter-cultural in an offhand way, appropriate for a vinyl place, even one that had a nice classical selection.

As I write in other posts, there’s a happy incongruity in going to stores, standing in line to make your purchases, carrying your shopping bags, and having free feet. I climbed the stairs with my purchases and watched my toes step upon the walkway toward my car.

As I was writing this, I remembered Jeff’s Classical Records in Tucson, which closed several years after I visited. Once I tiptoed in shoeless. It was a terrific store for classical music collectors. Vinyl stores have always been for me favorite destinations, and in two or three of them over the years, I “forgot” my sandals.