Alphabet Soup: LPs to CDs



It seems that no matter how low I'm feeling, there is one thing that can instantly cheer me up, and that is music. I remember turning on the radio after leaving the hospital the night my father died, on the way to my brother's funeral, and other dark and difficult times in my life. Music would help me forget the pain in my post-surgical abdomen, make me feel better during the relocation my husband and I made from Florida to the Midwest, when he needed to get to his new job right away and I had to stay behind for nearly three months to pack up the house, (a monumental job after which I took half a year off).

Even today at work, when word drifts back to me that a "strange man" had been sighted in the break room who turned out to be a fellow who works on the other side of the building, a man appropriately dressed for our casual work environment but who happens to be a brother (if you're black, you're likely familiar with Overreacting White Woman Syndrome). Okay, so I did roll my eyes and mutter that if his pigment had been a dozen shades lighter he would not have seemed out of place to her, but after that I promptly put on my headphones and started listening to Michael Franks, forgetting about how quickly some people are ready to call Security on people they feel in their little narrow minds don't look like they belong. But that's a column for another day.

With the comfort I get from music it is no wonder, then, that I have cartons and cartons of LPs that I couldn't bear to throw out. But recently we made a purchase that puts me a little closer to labeling all those old vinyl records for the monster garage sale we will eventually hold.

I don't keep up with technology that much; I've long since decided it moves too damn fast for me. I don't have a Blackberry or an MP3 player. I don't even have a camera in my cell phone, at least I don't think I do. But when I saw that a local store was selling a CD recorder that works from both albums and cassettes, I told my husband and we sprung into action, buying one the very next day.

It's an old-fashioned-looking contraption that kind of looks like the one pictured. (I'm pretty sure it's not identical, since this one is advertised at $399 and we paid $169 for ours, less than half that sum). I am thrilled to have treasures like Hugh Masekela's Latest, originally recorded in 1967 (he does an absolutely beautiful rendition of the Lennon/McCartney tune Here, There, and Everywhere that still sounds current 41 years later) and Masekela, his famous South African protest album from 1968, on CD at last.

I've already made a deal with myself to keep things from getting out of hand: I can create one converted CD from albums for every three boxes I unpack!

Have you held on to your old LPs? Do you ever play them? Or have you already converted yours to CDs?