Well as you may know, I'm moving in about three years. So I thought I may as well start cleaning and packing. Because I'm like that. As soon as I know I have to do something, I do it. So I decided I'd start with the lounge room shelves. That was tricky. Because who knows? I may want to read all those old Rolling Stone magazines one day. Or the Skin and Ink. Even the 100 or so Womens Health and Fitness. Can I really give them away? Too hard. So I cleaned them up into neat piles to ponder over and moved onto the vinyl. Now there are a lot of memories associated with my records. Good, Bad and Ugly.
This can be ugly. Yet after the right amount of alcohol it can seem so good. I can tell you though, that you are unlikely to find more annoying voices than Pinky and Perky. I loved this. People always think I'm playing it on the wrong speed. But I'm not. I mean how cool are Pinky and Perky. Dudes.
And French Nursery Rhymes. You can't go wrong can you. Who doesn't remember sitting in a hot music room at school singing Frere Jacques. You know that thing they make you do where one group starts off, then the next and the next and it's supposed to sound lovely but the last group goes too fast and you all end up singing over the top of each other. And the music teacher stays determined that it will work out. Row row row your boat was another one.
I used to like to illustrate my books (and obviously records). I've coloured in all the pages in my Heidi book. And Heidi Grows Up. And Heidi Has Children. So it was no surprise to find I'd drawn a little picture inside the cover of the french Nursery Rhymes record cover. I'm assuming it is my own french dog. Like the one above. Or maybe a cat. Crossed with a unicorn. Missing an eye. With a terrible belly button disease. Yet somehow still happy.