A little history

The version of the story my dad told me, as I remember it, is that when they divorced, my mom kept the records and he kept the TV. He explained to me that at the time, he wanted to be able to watch baseball. He was a fan of the Mets living in New Hampshire and it was a 13" black and white. I imagine he could have kept the records and gone to a bar to watch the few games they'd show that he'd actually want to see. But whatever.

So anyway, my mom got all these records. Half of them were my dad's. She remarried and had a kid, my sister. The psycho she was married to added to the collection until they split up. I don't know how many of the records in here were his. He had a bunch of LP's in his trailer so he probably kept most of his own (yes, I said trailer).

Eventually I moved to New Jersey to live with my dad. I'll spare you the details. I kept in touch with my mom and we're on good terms. Every once in a while she does something I really kind of hate, you know, they way moms do. One of the things I kind of hated was she took all these awesome LPs and put them in her fucking damp basement in boxes that they didn't really fit in and left them there. Then for a couple decades she lorded them over me and my sister, telling us someday she'd let one of us have them. We both really wanted them. I kind of always knew she was gonna give them to my sister. I'll spare you the details.

So anyway what I didn't expect was that she'd just give them all to my sister without telling me, as if it didn't matter to me at all. She did that. I didn't find out for a whole god damned year. Can't say I was thrilled to find out. I don't hold it against my sister. It's not that kind of thing and I love my sister like crazy. Nothing my mom can do could ever get me pissed off at my sister (no matter how hard she tried... I'll spare you the details).

So my sister and her filthy hippy husband decide they don't want them. They're too scratched to listen to, too warped to even think about, and they take up too much space. So they asked if I wanted them. Did I want them? You're fuckin' A right I fucking wanted them! God dammit!

My mom can be a total pain in the ass. I can't believe she didn't even consider giving some of these to me. I can't believe the awful condition she let them get into... of course it's possible the shitty condition is why she didn't give them to me because I'd have mentioned it. They are a wreck. I mean, just terrible.

Anyway, there's your history. On to the records.