Useless ideas to consider while procrastinating some important but boring
project:
Most record collectors are male.
Many men are obsessed with the concept(ion) of virginity.
The Virgin Megastore.
The name says it all.
A few million virgins waiting to be taken home?
Case closed.
But I digress before I've even begun.
Lovely time in a Berlin record store, somewhere near a bombed cathedral
(boom). None of the CDs were shrinkwrapped. I walked to the listening
counter with a stack of goodies and ListeningBarPerson dutifully set up
each one in turn for listening purposes. Dropped a traveler's cheque and
went without several food groups for a few days. (Wipe off that smirk: who
here has not skipped meals in order to fund musical expenditures? Let he
who is without guilt cast the first aspersion!)
The U.S. is another matter. The 0.1% subset found at the average
listening bar is no fun for the adventurous listener. Top 40
shlock-shock-rock.
The virgin thing. The appeal of the excessive packaging material enclosing
most CD releases in the United States lies in the reassuring sense that
this is something New and Untouched. Mine! All mine! Sorry. At least
you know you won't acquire any sort of disease as a free gift. Maybe a
computer virus from a CD-ROM.
A recent virgin musical purchase contained no less than three chastity
belts. I had to put on another record for listening while I figured out
how to liberate said musical product.
1. Shrinkwrap. Try the red pull-tab. Said tab tears off uselessly. Try
the fingernails on the seams. Bent a fingernail to no avail (poet and know
it). Desperate desire to hear new music leads to embarassing moment of
lost dignity involving the attempt to chew open the wrapper with teeth.
Success! Thank God no one saw me. And then, like a fool, I go and tell
2000 people here. It's like confessional poetry: you feel better, but
everyone thinks less of you.
2. Long sticky seal along top edge. Scrape this off with nails until not a
smidgin of glue residue remains. Attempted to collect all gluey pieces
and exile them to the trashcan is a trial in patience. Pieces of sticky
plastic are inevitably left attached to your shirt sleeve, the couch, and a
convenient pet.
3. Shiny holographic sticker seal on side edge. Looks like one of those
credit card verification thingies. However, I've tried making fake credit
cards with one of these stickers and ended up unpleasantly with a store
manager and security guard. A word to the wise: caveat emptor. That's
two words, but who's counting? Experience teaches well: you must, must,
must, use a razor to bisect this mofo. Truly, this is an act of mercy.
Be still beating heart. Then delicately remove the two resulting sections.
Any other approach leaves a sticky mess. So to speak.
Sorry if I've offended anyone.
I'm certainly offended, and won't be talking to myself until a more sincere
apology is forthcoming.
With all innuendo intact,
3
On now: Gidon Kremer performs Astor Piazzolla: "El Tango".
Not this-listy at all, now is it?
On next: Miles Davis "Kind of Blue", remastered edition. Let's see if
there's a real difference or if I've fallen for a Marketing Ploy... Oh,
no, another triple chastity belt!