THE RECORD COLLECTOR

SUNDAY

On Sundays... Fairfax High School turns into one of the largest vintage flea markets I’ve ever seen. Set up outside the school, under a blanket of shading trees, you can purchase everything from hot sunday pancakes to a Fonzie lunch pail. As I stand looking at some vintage California licence plates from 1927, I notice Mickey Rourke is standing next to me. For those who don’t know who he is. He played Charles Bukowski in BARFLY. Seeing Mickey Rourke at 9:30 A.M on a Sunday morning??…Well...  I’ll just let your imagination paint that grungy picture.

Across the  street is The Record Collector. As I walked along Melrose I quickly glance into the window,  and the record collector himself, waves me in,  for a private viewing of 800,000 records. That’s almost a million records!! All carefully stacked from the floor to the ceiling,  in multiple rows, that angle and  weave in all directions. At one point,  the record collector disappears into the abyss of wax. We are now lost. Surrounded by jazz, blues and classical, this is not Kansas anymore. I can’t help but wonder, am I in a scene of Pulp Fiction where we will disappear forever into the basement of hell. We finally pop out in front of a baby grand piano. This place is paradise for anyone who loves music. It smells music. It’s a throw back to all things analog. This place is also a documentary, just waiting to be made. Don’t mention CD’s in here. ( That’s a swear word.)  The Record Collector’s passion for analog music is astute.