Stephen Mejias

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Stephen Mejias

One Night Stand!

Stephen Mejias First Published: Mar 17, 2009 0 comments

The music begins before he arrives. There are horns and hollers and hand claps. Then comes the MC: "Right now, ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to introduce the star of our show, the young man you've all been waiting for, Mister Soul! So, what d'you say? Let's all get together and welcome him to the stage with a great, big hand! How 'bout it?! How 'bout it?!"


Stephen Mejias

My Small Bookshelf

Stephen Mejias First Published: Mar 12, 2009 0 comments

I had made room for vinyl LPs on my small bookshelf. It worked out alright, except that the shelf only went ten inches deep, leaving a good two inches of my poor, homeless LPs hanging off into open space. I could not continue to subject them to this sort of abuse. They would need a proper home, and soon.


Stephen Mejias

My Tall Bookshelf

Stephen Mejias First Published: Mar 12, 2009 0 comments

I had made room for LPs on my tall bookshelf, carefully placing vinyl records along the cheap chipboard until the shelf bowed in the center and threatened to collapse. I didn't like this very much at all. I spent days away from home fearing that the shelf would give way. I'd come home from a long day in the office to find The Byrds and Henry Fiol, Herbie Hancock and Sam Beam, all in a jumbled mess of vinyl and plastic and wood and carpet. Yet, more LPs would soon arrive.


Stephen Mejias

My Short Stools

Stephen Mejias First Published: Mar 12, 2009 0 comments

When my LP collection grew larger than space allowed for them on the couch, I started stacking records up against my short stools. A stack of a dozen or so LPs soon became a stack of three or four dozen LPs; soon became impossible to move and stretched from the left side of one stool all the way to the right side of the opposite stool. I had the Pulaski Skyway of vinyl LPs arcing through my small apartment.


Stephen Mejias

A Tale of Two Racks

Stephen Mejias First Published: Mar 12, 2009 0 comments

Just to be clear: I never felt imprisoned, or controlled, by my">http://blog.stereophile.com/stephenmejias/the_transformation/">my television. We had enjoyed a harmless, casual relationship. My television never told me what to do, never told me who to associate with; my television never judged me, never questioned my motives; my television gave me my space when I needed it. It had been a good television, for the most part. Sure, sometimes it could be obtuse or aloof with its poor reception; sometimes it seemed like it didn't want me to watch the Mets game on Saturday afternoons. But, all in all, I liked television. I still do. It's just that I like my">http://blog.stereophile.com/stephenmejias/my_new_rega_p3-24/">my turntable more.


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