Thursday, September 26, 2002

 

My records provide for me. In times of need, my records can bring me wealth. My records can bring me happiness. My records can bring me new friends, and possibly an evening of free booze. My records can provide me with a warmth in the rainey season. My records can inspire during a writer's block. My records can wield beauty and disgust in the same fifteen minutes. My records hold low bass tones and deep meanings that aren't worth the two-fifty I paid for it. My records can make a grown man cry. My records have the dizzying effect on me that only occurs when ingesting heavy amounts of drugs, or when you fall in love. My records smell like nostalgia, and conjure images of thanksgiving dinners with uncles who smoked reefer in the back yards. My records have been handled by some of the snobs in high society, and have had joints rolled within their gatefolds. My records have been stolen. My records are stolen goods. My records have been sampled. My records have been borrowed and my records have broken. My records speak eras to me and fill me in on the scenes I aint been introduced to. My records are a history lesson on what the cities were like years ago, and even today as the musicians tell the tale like a griot teaches the ways.

posted by Hog 11:51 PM