Our firstborn was here last week.  He was here ALL of last week.  We had such a long list of things to do that we didn't squeeze them all in, but we hit a lot of them.  Like checking out at least one local record shop.  Vintage album selections, like all things vintage, vary so much by region it is an entirely new and enlightening experience to thumb through bins in a new place.  

I was ALL in for flipping through the bins.  I love a challenge.  I love dollar bins.  I don't even care what the theme of the dollar bin is.  It's like a contest to hunt through and find the best of whatever that is.  In this case, knowing my kid, and knowing a lot of music recorded in the, ahem, eras that now qualify as 'vintage' I felt equipped to partner up on this excursion.  It's a little embarassing just how animated I apparently can be sifting through dollar albums. It's like a history lesson and blast from your personal past. 

Some things go without saying.  Like Pearl Bailey. A moment, y'all.  

I had a lot more moments it seems.  "What Mom?  I can't see you.  Can you just tell me? No, I've never heard of Wolfman Jack."

"Wings? Do I know them?'

"Yes! You really do.  Or you should. Paul McCartney.  Here let me sing a few…."

"That's ok, I'll just trust you."  

Which is good policy, I tell you.  But the boy did not trust my judgement across the board.  This, for instance, did not make the cut.  Even after I sang BOTH I Think I Love You and Come On, Get Happy.  Nope.  No dice.  I'm sorry, David. I tried.

Nor did Donny and Marie wind up in the final stack, even with the obvious selling point of being a little country AND a little bit rock and roll.  And the fact that your mother actually saw them in concert.  

I know, the boy's taste is starting to concern me too.  We can only keep trying to expose them.

But hey. What I didn't master in the 70's can be learned yet.  As it turns out there may still be time for me.  I think I can do this…..

I mean, there is probably some historical burden on us to ensure the eggbeater is not lost for future generations.  Who's with me?