What a thrill I just had with this piece of musical furniture, an ultimate serial box. The sound was not right, so I fixed the muffled, scratchiness coming from this amazing contraption. After close inspection, I PLUCKED off a sizable piece of lint from the needle. This sent me squeeling in delight, having righted sound quality, and left me feeling useful, full of childish life and purpose! Go, Hugo! Go, Hugo! Go, Hugo Cabret!
What’s more, it felt SO GOOD to have solved a problem TOO LARGE for my teens! Ha! jk. In this accomplishment I GREW small again among imagined sounds of Winne the Pooh and other Disney favorites. Even now, as I stare at the record going round and round like a gold label odometer, I am mesmerized, and if not rocking, spinning, and YES! “Twisting” to the beat of Chubby Checker!
This little reward is the result of the family cleaning out Grandma’s place to get it ready to rent. A week or so ago, I was show-n-telling a clinker catcher and two antique typewriters to my students. Yesterday, Donavon brought home this treasure- a Hoffman Vintage Record Player. If it weren’t so large, I would probably be tempted to tote it to school as well and give a mini lesson about the ever changing “Technology Cycle,” this being yet another cycle for children AND TEACHERS to learn in the Fourth Grade.
At home, we have been having a grand time listening to vinyl from the 50s 60s and 70s. Last night’s favorites were Frances Bergen, Beach Boys, and Buddy Holly. Wish I had a Peter Pan album. I remember listening to that Disney soundtrack over and over and over. “Never smile at a crocodile. No you can’t get friendly with a crocodile,” and “You can fly. You can fly. You can fly!” Old Sounds from a vintage record player have certainly enhanced being home for a bit this weekend. Yay!