It's happened 3 times now. First was back in the 70's. Living/working away from home, bumped into a few lads that had nowhere to stay, so let them doss in mine. Came home from work next day, they'd done one and robbed my collection. I didn't know them but they were Scouse and skint, and I was only a kid. Still feel a mug saying it, but the shame's on them.
Next time was the early 80's. So, I'd got a good collection together. But ending up out of work and skint, I started dipping in, selling the odd album that I didn't really like. Before I knew it, the lot was gone.
So when I got to the States, I started again. Tapes and CD's this time. But I done a job in this house and the owner gave me a load of vinyl that he was throwing out. It was mostly shite, but it kicked me off again. And convincing myself I'd go back, I keep it at my mate's. And I've visited about 5 times now, but there's no way I'll ever move back for good. So, I'll probably sell them and the scooter next time I go over.
Well, my scooter days are long gone. And the computer's my juke box. Shite sound quality, but it's all there and free. Do miss the old days though, proper noise from proper records, rolling a joint on a gate sleeve and staring at it for ages. Nothing like an LP, don't let them go if you can help it.
