One's Thoughts about Vinyl Records.

I have got back into my writing mode this week after talking about it on recent posts.   I did pen a humorous manuscript about people and their hobbies yonks ago .  It's had a few rejections from publishers but rather than waste it.  I am going to give you some of them to read for absolutely FREE!  Call it an early Christmas present readers.  

ADVERT:  "Gizza Job."
In the meanwhile if there are any book publishers or newspapers who would publish my books or give us a job writing for them - get in touch.  I'm very cheap and I can tell the time, so it will be there on your desk, YESTERDAY!

Here goes:

 RECORD COLLECTORS.

Today (Nov 14) marks the sixtieth anniversary of the record charts in the UK.  3.7 Billion records have been sold in that time.  That's almost enough to reach the moon and back again.  

I reckon, hmm...  If you want to study the psychological make up of a person, study their record collection.  My musical tastes stem from The Nolan’s, Brass bands, Katherine Jenkins and heavy metal.  

Women seem to be far more eclectic.  I know a woman who likes Max Bygraves, Jim Reeves, Amy Wine house and the Wurzels.  Most of the time she likes listening to 'peace and quiet'.   

Is your house full of records and CD's that you never play?  I am after one of them there wind up record players with a gramophone horn.  I am going to play the records in my vegetable plot to make my vegetables grow.  

I always feel nostalgic when I look through my old record collection.  It makes me think of a certain time in my life and what I was doing.  You often think to yourself: 

“Why did I buy that Show Waddy Waddy record?”  

Do you remember those Pick nit (Pickwick records) that they used to sell in Tescos and Asda?  You could buy a current up to date chart album for half the price of a bona-fide (kosher) label like pie (Pye).  The only trouble was the folk on the record, weren't the people in the photograph on the record sleeve. 

I think they got a group of rather inebriated pub singers and got them to sing the latest tunes.  In return for a packet of wine gums and half a glass of strong bow cider each.   They were rather appalling but at least they saved you a few bob. 

Car boot sales attract record collector obsessives like flies round a cow’s tail. You can be stood there freezing cold thinking: 

“Haven’t we done well dear?”  

We got up at four O’clock in the morning, and drove five miles to the nearest car boot sale. You handed over a tenner in payment for your pitch (a ten foot puddle overlooking the sewage works).  Three hours later and you have made four pounds thirty two pence, or one fifty.  If you take out the hot dogs and two cups of tea in the polyester cups. Suddenly, this creature comes up to and says:

“S’cuse me mate.  “How much is your record”?

You turn and look at a middle-aged man with a big 'U' smile, the size of the entrance to the Mersey tunnel.  You say:

“Is fifty pence ok?”  

“What?” 
says record collector obsessive, crouched down (in the puddle) flicking through your records.  It says:

“I have been searching for THE BIGGEST ASPIDISTRA IN THE WORLD BY GRACE FIELDS for the last fifteen years...

He then takes it out of it's paper sleeve and examines the black vinyl for five minutes.  He shakes your hand like a long lost friend and says:

"I would gladly have given you seventy five quid for it.”  

You have made some bodies day and ruined your own!   
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Here's the biggest selling single of the 1970's:  Mull Of Kintyre. See you later in the week.