We have been going down memory lane at our house thanks to our 16-year-old son Ben.
As some of you may know, he’s the youngest of six.
He loves music, as do all his older siblings, but he is the only one who has begun collecting albums.
Recently he purchased a needle for our old turntable, but when he and his dad put the needle in, they discovered that our 32-year-old turntable wasn’t functioning properly. It immediately began spinning faster than was desirable — even for a 78.
So one weekend after he got off work, he purchased a turntable at one of the local stores, and he and his dad hooked it into our original amp and speakers.
Moments later he was hauling out our old records from storage beneath the stairs.
As Sunday afternoon unfolded music that once filled our home was revisiting us.
I smiled as Dire Straits, The Police, The Clash, Moody Blues, Eric Clapton, the Eagles, The Secret Policeman’s Other Ball and Creedence Clearwater Revival wafted up from the basement.
Wanting to augment the collection, Ben then put us on assignment to go to record stores in Victoria with his wish list and we found some of the items on his wish list.
They were CCR — Green River and Cosmo’s Factory, Cream Wheels of Fire, Buffalo Springfield and Rodriguez Cold Facts.
Eric Clapton’s Unplugged, Supertramp’s Breakfast in America, Phil Collins Face Value, The Police Outlandos d’Amour, The Who Who’s Next, Current Swell Long Time Ago and anything by Queen were not available.
During our summer holidays in Vancouver while visiting our daughter Rachael we went to another record store where I had an epiphany.
As I began rifling through the stores’ collection I recognized hundreds of records. Without a TV in the home until I was eight, I spent many hours listening to music. It showed.
To this day I can still remember trying to figure out what some of the songs meant. Like “Mother Superior jaunt the gun.” What was that about?
At the store I saw an album cover for Crosby Stills Nash and Young, The Band, Bob Dylan, all the records my parents owned.
When I picked up Rolling Stones Goats Head Soup I smiled, remembering how when I was in Grade 9 the sound system at the pool hall was always playing that one.
Someone once said you should never live your lives through your children, but I have never agreed.
It is just wait too much fun.
Monica Lamb-Yorski is a staff writer with the Tribune/Weekend Advisor.