As I write, it is garage-sale season here again in Santa Fe, and a recent sign near my home advertised "Over 3000 LPs, good condition, low prices." To my surprise, the seller wasn't a yuppie enamored of his new CD player but a true collector discarding the duplicates and dogs from his collection. 30 minutes later, many LPs heavier&mdash;including a mint Flanders &amp; Swan <I>At the Drop of a Hat</I> (footnote 1)&mdash;and not too many dollars lighter, I returned to a great night's listening courtesy of the black vinyl disc.

As I write, it is garage-sale season here again in Santa Fe, and a recent sign near my home advertised "Over 3000 LPs, good condition, low prices." To my surprise, the seller wasn't a yuppie enamored of his new CD player but a true collector discarding the duplicates and dogs from his collection. 30 minutes later, many LPs heavier&mdash;including a mint Flanders &amp; Swan <I>At the Drop of a Hat</I> (footnote 1)&mdash;and not too many dollars lighter, I returned to a great night's listening courtesy of the black vinyl disc.

As I write, it is garage-sale season here again in Santa Fe, and a recent sign near my home advertised "Over 3000 LPs, good condition, low prices." To my surprise, the seller wasn't a yuppie enamored of his new CD player but a true collector discarding the duplicates and dogs from his collection. 30 minutes later, many LPs heavier&mdash;including a mint Flanders &amp; Swan <I>At the Drop of a Hat</I> (footnote 1)&mdash;and not too many dollars lighter, I returned to a great night's listening courtesy of the black vinyl disc.

As I write, it is garage-sale season here again in Santa Fe, and a recent sign near my home advertised "Over 3000 LPs, good condition, low prices." To my surprise, the seller wasn't a yuppie enamored of his new CD player but a true collector discarding the duplicates and dogs from his collection. 30 minutes later, many LPs heavier&mdash;including a mint Flanders &amp; Swan <I>At the Drop of a Hat</I> (footnote 1)&mdash;and not too many dollars lighter, I returned to a great night's listening courtesy of the black vinyl disc.

When I visited The Louis Armstrong Archives a few years ago to visit archivist Michael Cogswell, Cogswell escorted me back into the stacks to show me Armstrong's collection of 650 open-reel tapes, almost all of which sported collages assembled by the great trumpeter. More than touching his trumpet, I felt a direct connection to Armstrong viewing (and hearing) his mix tapes&mdash;Satchmo was one of us!