Matter of Record
With the crowd of friends I wandered into the record store off the busy street.
"Let's look in here, just for a minute," said one girl. "There's something I want to see if they have."
I stopped just inside the door and looked at a display tree filled with stuffed animals, refrigerator magnets bearing various slogans and pictures, and some themed stationery.
I then walked over to the left wall of the sop, where two friends were picking through the selection of CDs, and I began browsing just behind them in the alphabet.
Every so often one of us would pull something out and show it to the others. "I remember that one," someone would say. "I was in the seventh grade, maybe? Something like that."
Growing bored with the CDs, I wandered back toward the center of the store, occasionally stopping to look at something on a display. I saw another friend browsing through some racks of LPs in the back right corner of the store, and I walked over to talk to her. A guy in a DJ booth above the LPs seemed to be providing the background music to our shopping.
"Hey," my friend said as I drew near, "Isn't this one yours?" She held up a record album cover which included my name, and a large blue water ripple.
"Yeah, actually, but I didn't think I did one on vinyl. Maybe I did. I can't believe I don't remember this. How weird. Let me see?"
She handed me the album, and I took it between my open palms.
Upon closer examination, I realized the artwork was slightly different than I remembered.
"This is strange. This is a completely different photograph than I used."
"It looks the same to me," she responded.
"No, no," I said. "Look, in the reflection in the water, you can see a big tree, and a fence, and look, there's the outline of the photographer. Much more amateur job than my artist did."
"Maybe 'cause this was made in China?" she asked.
"What?!?"
"Yeah, look at this." Her finger touched the back side of the album cover.
I flipped it over in my hands to find, among other printing on the back side, a notation which read, "Made in China, 1994."
"That's the wrong year, too. This must be an illegal bootleg, or something." I handed it back to her to look at.
"Are you upset about it?" my friend asked.
"Actually, no. Not so much. I never made a lot of money off the album, anyway, so it's not that big a deal. Actually, more than anything I'm amazed that it made it to China somehow. Kind of flattered actually. I need to buy this. Is the album actually inside?"
She tilted the album cover, and shards of on LP came sliding out.
"Oh, man," I said. "I guess I'd still buy it anyway, just to prove that it existed, but it sucks that the record is destroyed. I'd love to be able to hear if it's the same or not. And I feel terrible paying. . . ." I looked at the price tag on the album cover. "Paying $8.99 for a record that won't play."
"Maybe there's another copy?" she asked.
We began looking through the other albums on the rack, and soon enough came across another copy of the bootleg album. Upon inspection, this one was badly scratched, but was at least in one piece.
"There you go," she said, handing it over to me.
I took this one, also marked $8.99, up to the cashier, and paid for it.
"Let's look in here, just for a minute," said one girl. "There's something I want to see if they have."
I stopped just inside the door and looked at a display tree filled with stuffed animals, refrigerator magnets bearing various slogans and pictures, and some themed stationery.
I then walked over to the left wall of the sop, where two friends were picking through the selection of CDs, and I began browsing just behind them in the alphabet.
Every so often one of us would pull something out and show it to the others. "I remember that one," someone would say. "I was in the seventh grade, maybe? Something like that."
Growing bored with the CDs, I wandered back toward the center of the store, occasionally stopping to look at something on a display. I saw another friend browsing through some racks of LPs in the back right corner of the store, and I walked over to talk to her. A guy in a DJ booth above the LPs seemed to be providing the background music to our shopping.
"Hey," my friend said as I drew near, "Isn't this one yours?" She held up a record album cover which included my name, and a large blue water ripple.
"Yeah, actually, but I didn't think I did one on vinyl. Maybe I did. I can't believe I don't remember this. How weird. Let me see?"
She handed me the album, and I took it between my open palms.
Upon closer examination, I realized the artwork was slightly different than I remembered.
"This is strange. This is a completely different photograph than I used."
"It looks the same to me," she responded.
"No, no," I said. "Look, in the reflection in the water, you can see a big tree, and a fence, and look, there's the outline of the photographer. Much more amateur job than my artist did."
"Maybe 'cause this was made in China?" she asked.
"What?!?"
"Yeah, look at this." Her finger touched the back side of the album cover.
I flipped it over in my hands to find, among other printing on the back side, a notation which read, "Made in China, 1994."
"That's the wrong year, too. This must be an illegal bootleg, or something." I handed it back to her to look at.
"Are you upset about it?" my friend asked.
"Actually, no. Not so much. I never made a lot of money off the album, anyway, so it's not that big a deal. Actually, more than anything I'm amazed that it made it to China somehow. Kind of flattered actually. I need to buy this. Is the album actually inside?"
She tilted the album cover, and shards of on LP came sliding out.
"Oh, man," I said. "I guess I'd still buy it anyway, just to prove that it existed, but it sucks that the record is destroyed. I'd love to be able to hear if it's the same or not. And I feel terrible paying. . . ." I looked at the price tag on the album cover. "Paying $8.99 for a record that won't play."
"Maybe there's another copy?" she asked.
We began looking through the other albums on the rack, and soon enough came across another copy of the bootleg album. Upon inspection, this one was badly scratched, but was at least in one piece.
"There you go," she said, handing it over to me.
I took this one, also marked $8.99, up to the cashier, and paid for it.