Stephen Mejias

If you visit our Gallery, you'll see that Christian bought an LP. Vinyl, that is. Funny thing about that: Christian doesn't own a record player.

And so goes the sweet cycle. Poor dude's walking in my own drunken steps. Like me, like ErikB, like Catch 22, like countless others&#151I am sure&#151Christian is already collecting vinyl. He cannot help himself. Michael Lavorgna and John DeVore knew.

Michael Lavorgna and John DeVore&#151audiophiles, music lovers, enablers that they are&#151exchanged dark, deliberate glances as they watched my vinyl collection grow and grow. "So, you bought all this vinyl, and you don't have a turntable?" they asked.

Those dudes knew.

And now I know. My eyes and my fingers know. My ears know. My nose knows. In the same way that an alcoholic can catch the wet, stale perfume of malt and hops from so many city blocks away, I can now detect the presence of vinyl. Like a vinyl vampire.

And, Christian, I can tell you this: If you think you're buying lots of vinyl now, wait until you get that turntable.

If things continue along this path, you'll find yourself like me, in some record store with a pile of old records in your helpless, happy hands.

Dude,
you won't even know
how you got there.

You were on your way home from work. You were hungry and tired and looking forward to sitting down on your orange couch to do nothing. When, suddenly, you look up and Jimi Hendrix is smiling at you. He winks and nods and says, "Buy me." He winks and nods and says again, "The wind cried: 'Buy me.'"

You are surrounded by music&#151great, great music&#151and it is calling you. New music, old music, music you never imagined. Music dressed in soft sunshine and purple paisleys.

Don't worry. It is okay. In fact, it's the right thing to do. Embrace it. Embrace it like you've had to embrace all that's dark and dangerous and wonderful in this world. To get by, to live, to love, you'll embrace it.