Alright, alright, so I didn't really make the vinyl. But we did thrift, gather, scrounge and do just a wee bit of sewing for this gift. In planning for many months, Steve and I had a lot of fun putting this one together for our Ezra.
Ez is a serious lover of music of all kinds - he loves everything about all of it - making music, listening to music and sharing music. And with the music, he loves the accompanying artwork, the feeling, and oh - just the whole process.
Digital music is wonderful, of course...and how most of our music is heard (this boy spends every minute of his computer time bouncing around our ITunes Library - checking stuff out, and making playlists like nobody's business - who knew that you could seamlessly go from Cat Stevens to Red Hot Chili Peppers to Natalie MacMaster to Dan Zanes? I didn't. Ezra did.). But we had a feeling he would most especially dig a setup of his own, of the vinyl variety. Because, oh, that feeling of holding the music in your hands is so precious.
And so....he now has a turntable of his very own - one on which he can spin, scratch, and savor records just as he wants, to his sweet-beating hearts content.
We (well, Steve, really), compiled this bundle from all over - thrift shops, record stores, and Grampie's garage (you know never know what my Dad's going to pull out of that garage of his). And each trip that we've taken to Goodwill in the past six months has found us stopping by the record bin to pick up an album or two. Oh, what fun that has been - from Swedish polka to Mozart to Joan Jett and even a little bit of Peanuts. Adding a few from my own college record collection (existing nearly entirely of Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, and Carole King - and yes, it was the 90's), he has himself quite the eclectic, fun, and fabulous starter collection.
Flipping through each one on Solstice night, we kept hearing giggles and, "This is AWESOME!"
It was awesome. He's awesome.
I made this little pouch for him, to keep some record money in, too (I told you there was sewing! And embroidery, even!). I love that we can take a trip to the thrift store, and for mere pennies of his very own (usually 49 or 99 cents a piece - even less in summer yard sales or on Freecycle), a whole new world of music can be in his hands.
Popping in to say one last goodnight to the boys lately, I've been finding a common scene: record spinning, and boy nodding off with an album in his hands. Kissing him goodnight, taking the album out of his hands, and checking the bed for scissors (really, it must be done), he'll often wake just enough to mutter a one-sentence review of the band in hand. Last night: "The Magical Mystery Tour is kind of...weird. But I think I like it."
Good times.
