Months later, as I was turning 14, I
made a routine visit to my aunt’s house in Livonia with my father. And there, on her kitchen table, was this record
with an orange and yellow label.
Over the years I collected hundreds of 45s to play on the family HiFi. And thanks to my Aunt Mary, I never, ever, had to purchase a single record.
As I nosed in closer to sneak a peek at
the single, dumfounded that my aunt would even HAVE a 45 in her house, I caught
site of the title of the song. You
Can’t Sit Down, by the Dovells.
What on earth was my aunt, her adult
kids living away from home by this time, doing with this “teenage” record?
Although the Dovells (of Bristol
Stomp fame) were not my favorite artists (remember this was the time when
the Beatles were on top…and I was definitely a Beatles fan) I coveted this black
round piece of vinyl.
Along with great envy, she must have
also noticed the quizzical look in my eye.
I am not sure if I asked her why she had this record first, or if she
offered to GIVE it to me first. I was
flabbergasted. Me? My own 45?
Then she explained that as a bar owner,
the jukebox was regularly brought up to date and the old songs were replaced
with the newest, latest, greatest hit records. It was then that she gave me the best present
a girl my age would have wanted.
She offered to give me ALL the records
as they were replaced in the jukebox. And to top it off? At the time, the jukebox machine didn’t flip
the records to play side B! That means I
would be getting TWO copies of every vinyl 45.
Ahh haa….one for me…one to trade!
Over the years I collected hundreds of 45s to play on the family HiFi. And thanks to my Aunt Mary, I never, ever, had to purchase a single record.
Although my friends and I always made the weekly trek
up Telegraph Road to the corner of West Chicago…the local E.J. Korvette’s
department store. We would spend HOURS on
the 2nd floor hanging around their most phenomenal record
department.
If I remember correctly, in 1963/64, I
believe that 45s were going for about .49 cent a piece (by the latter years of
the 60s, the price had jumped to a whopping .69 cents).
That was a chunk of change, and at 14, I wasn’t working yet, unless you count the .50 cents an hour I spent babysitting for the neighbor kids, or the .45 cents my mom would pay me to wash and wax the floors (on my hands and knees, mind you).
That was a chunk of change, and at 14, I wasn’t working yet, unless you count the .50 cents an hour I spent babysitting for the neighbor kids, or the .45 cents my mom would pay me to wash and wax the floors (on my hands and knees, mind you).
Take a listen on the left.
To this day, when I hear
You Can’t Sit Down, I vividly recall the day I received my very first record.
To this day, when I hear
You Can’t Sit Down, I vividly recall the day I received my very first record.