Music Education with DJ MJ 🤣
For today, my brain is stuck on three numbers: 33, 45 and 78.
Because honestly… what was better for my generation than vinyl? And those 45’s with the little spinner? Yep. The spider. The tiny plastic magic that made the whole thing work.
I had so many little carrying cases for my 45s and I would do just about anything to have them back.
When I was in elementary school, my mother gave me $1.00 for an allowance and trust me when I say I did absolutely nada to earn it. Unless you count taking care of myself in her absence like every other Gen X kid.
But that dollar meant something. It meant freedom. It meant music.
Saturday at Ashley Gardens Apartments in New Holland, Pennsylvania in the late 70’s, I would grab my dollar, hop on my bike (which was basically a treasure for any kid) and take off to Stauffer’s Drug Store down the street. My mother sort of knew where I was but that was just standard back then. We did what we did as kids and showed back up for lunch.
Back to Stauffer’s.
Stauffer’s had this display of 45 records… as in 45 RPMs… and it was always the most popular 45’s for that timeframe. With tax, one record was $1.00.
Heck. Yes.
My music lovin’ little heart was fulfilled nearly every single Saturday.
And if it was raining? I pouted. Unless I could talk my mother or her boyfriend into taking me. Which usually worked.
Denny and my mother were the essential base of my love of music.
So I’d walk up to the counter with my 45 in hand and the cashier would place it in a flat brown paper bag along with a “spider.” A spider is actually called a 45 adapter but spider was the slang. I had one spider for every single 45… red, blue, yellow, maybe green.
Out the door, package in the basket on the front of my bike and back down the street. Key in lock. Up the stairs to my bedroom. Open the cabinet to my record player. Yes, I had my own because music was essential in that house.
Then the ritual.
Shimmy that spider onto the spindle.
Turn it on.
Move the speed to 45.
Place the needle exactly right.
Listen to the crackle (IYKYK).
Then it would begin.
I would sit right there and listen for two or three turns and if it was some pop or disco song, I would dance around my room like a Solid Gold dancer. Slower songs, I would lay on my bean bag and dream about being Leif Garrett’s girlfriend.
These are the memories I hold lovingly to.
Because in our childhood there can be so many painful things that happen and it can be so easy to allow those to swallow us whole. I absolutely would never say to bury that because I sure as hell can’t nor want to.
What I do believe is this. I choose to allow my soul fulfilling memories to be greater than soul draining ones.
Happy New Year Friends! Rock On!
XOXO, Jani
Journeys With Jani 