I don’t want to sound like an old-timer, or maybe I do, but there was something special about walking into a record store and buying an album. You were basically buying a memory: the trip to the store, maybe you ran into a friend that day, the sights, the smells, the weather, the pretty girl behind the counter that made you feel overly aware of yourself, the serious, funky-looking guy hunched over the racks with obscure 45s, the trip home with your prey in a bag that carried the record store logo, that little magical moment when you heard the intro to the first track and studied the album cover: the art, the font, the photos, lyrics, the credits even. “Oh, so that’s who’s playing the fiddle…”
I don’t have many memories of buying digital music. “Oh man, that time I pressed ‘Purchase’ on my computer, what a day.” But that’s how it goes. And I’m not complaining. Because…
Crap. It’s raining. You arrive at the store, all wet and feeling weird. With soaking steps, like an alien that just landed, you walk to the right section and flip through the records. It isn’t there—that record you want, it isn’t there. You check again, and again more frantically, but no, it didn’t magically appear out of the blue in the meantime, they really don’t have it. Unbelievable. You ask the girl behind the counter. The moment she says she’ll check on her computer, you want to turn around and walk. But that would be rude, so you nod and stand there waiting like a wet stray dog. The girl says there should be one copy left, so together you walk back to the scene of your disappointment and browse those same racks again. Still the record hasn’t magically appeared. The girl suggests that someone might have misplaced it and quickly checks here and there. You stand there, undergoing this. Then she says that awful thing. You’ve been expecting it, dreading it. And now here it comes. You prepare yourself.
Her lips part, they are starting to form a shape, you know what’s coming, you hate it, you sweat, you twitch, you want to scream and run, but it’s too late: “I could order a copy for you.” Now the path has been split in two. If you say “No”, it’ll be like saying, “Fuck you and your store.” But if you say “Yes”, you’re stuck—you could end up having to wait an agonizing 3 weeks; you’ll be 3 weeks older, sadder, you might not even be around anymore, it’s like the distant future.
You used to just say “Yes” and simply never return, avoiding the store forever afterwards. Until your mother, who always had to sort out the mess, intervened: “Look,” she said one day, “just tell them you’ll look around a bit more. Then leave and look elsewhere. You can always return to order a copy if nobody else has the record you want.”
Looking at the floor, not at the girl, like someone on trial, you say the words. They come out of your mouth like you don’t know what’s happening to you, but she accepts them and leaves you alone. You’re free again. You don’t leave the store right away however. A kind of weird, misplaced politeness, passed down from your ancestors, forces you to hang around the store for a few minutes more, pretending to browse records. Then finally enough time has passed, and you disappear.
To your joy, you do find a copy at a different store, one that you always avoid because you once placed an order there and never showed up; but to your dismay, it’s crazy expensive. What is it made of, pure gold? You can’t really be happy with it now. The new price has been plastered over the old one; peeling it away a bit, you see the record used to be significantly cheaper. You wonder if the price went up because word got out someone has been looking for it.
But you don’t have much of a choice, so you buy the record, avoiding eye contact with the clerk who examines you suspiciously.
It’s still raining. You run into Billy Bouma. Billy is the scourge of the area, a big-boned kid who looks like a 45-year-old construction worker. He attempts to come after you but he’s unsuccessful, something he can’t get used to early enough. You wonder if these guys ever have places to go to or things to do, or if they have just been inserted at various sites along the road to make life harder for you.
When you arrive home, your dad’s there. “Found a record I wanted,” you say, holding it up. He immediately checks the price and lets out a sound. “What is made of, pure gold?” You walk up the creaky stairs to your room, change clothes, then put on the record.
After listening to the album a few times, you realize there’s not one song on it that you truly like.
How to Remove Stubborn Price Tags Without Destroying Your Stuff: A Tutorial
If you’ve ever bought used books or records, you’ve probably spent some time cursing the gods because a price tag ripped off bits of that groovy vintage cover art with it. Here’s how to avoid that, from someone who buys a lot of mid-century junk and does this like once a week. What you need:
You can buy all of this for about $15 and it’ll last pretty much forever. You only need one Q-tip and about 1/16 of a teaspoon of Goo Gone per five price tags
(lighter fluid will also work but I hesitate to suggest that to Tumblr because… Tumblr). I have a pack of 1,000 razor blades I bought for $10 that’s lasted me years (they work best for this when they’re just a little dull; fresh out of the pack they can cut right into the cover if you’re not careful, so I usually use them for opening boxes etc. for a couple weeks before I rotate them to sticker duty).
Please don’t be dumb with razor blades.
Step 1: Soak a Q-tip in Goo Gone.
Just dip it in the cap or the mouth of the bottle. That’s all you need. And take it from someone who spilled half of her supply on her kitchen table today: PUT THE CAP BACK ON THE BOTTLE.
Step 2: Rub the Goo Gone into the price tag until it’s translucent/soaked through.
Make sure you get the edges wet, and don’t worry about staining the cover. You’ll see an oily yellow shadow at first, but never fear, it will fade after a few hours. (Yes, even from white.)
Step 3: Wait fifteen minutes.
Let that shit soak in.
Step 4: Slide the razor blade under the corner of the sticker (slowly).
The blade should be almost flat, so you’re not digging into the cover you’re trying to preserve. Take your time and if it’s not coming easily, try a little more Goo Gone, wait fifteen more minutes, and give it another go.
Step 5: Go back over that sticky patch with the Goo Gone and let it dry.
Use the other end of the Q-tip to wipe off any residue left from the sticker. I’d recommend waiting a few hours before sandwiching books on shelves or sealing records in outer sleeves so the Goo Gone has a chance to dry properly.
Congrats, you are now equipped to live a sticker-free life.
1974 character-centered albums from Sesame Street Records.
The Sesame Street discography has so many good songs, bits, lines, voices, jokes. Jim Henson and Frank Oz really shine on these albums. I know many of the songs by heart; in fact I still sing them sometimes, and not just when I’m alone. If you can’t enjoy those records, man, you must have sand instead of blood, a lump of clay where your soul is supposed to be.
MY NAME IS ROOSEVELT FRANKLIN is a really good one too, and the BERT & ERNIE SING-ALONG, which is one of my personal favorites. THE COUNT COUNTS contains many of the songs that were used for animated segments. When you know these albums, there’s always joyful music in your head.
a nice and accurate review post of the good omens radio dramatization vinyl box set
which was given to me as a late birthday present. let’s dig in!
as soon as this was announced a couple of moths back, i got extremely excited about it! i loved the radio drama ever since i first listened to it and i still treasure it over the tv series. yes, you can boo at me. anyway… i preordered it as soon as i could. it would take a while to ship it to ukraine (my country) but it was so worth it. the package arrived just today, four days after my birthday.
so, here’s a quick rundown of all the contents!
let’s take a look at the “box” itself. it’s more of a book, though. it’s styled so beautifully and it’s made out of very high quality material in general.
the first thing i saw inside was this exclusive art print signed by neil gaiman himself!! i’ve been looking forward to owning this :)
the sleeve notes about the making of the dramatization and such come next. very interesting to read!
(he wants a shoehorn…)
then, there are some pages dedicated to the amazing new art drawn specifically for the box set. truly astonishing! i love how they didn’t reuse any material from the tv series.
and then come the vinyl records themselves. there’s four of them for the six episodes in total. on one page is a quote from the episode(s), inside the other is the record itself.
the records are quite nice. aside from being two-colored it’s also heavyweight (180g). the sound itself is just perfect! here’s the art from episode one’s record label.
also, on the back of episode one’s record is the previously mentioned etched demonic cherub. i couldn’t take a proper picture of it so i tried to brighten and darker the first image so you can see parts of it. very nicely done!
i also just adore the way each record sleeve has new artwork on it. my favorite is definitely the sleeve for episode six (bottom right).
also, inside there was a sheet of pop-out character cards! very nice addition, and it has my favorite characters (hastur & ligur)!!!
overall, this was extremely well-done and i’m super happy about the way it was all done. if you’re a die-hard fan of the book like me, this is a certain must-have!
this is it i suppose! if you have any questions regarding the box set, reply or message me :) ciao!!!
Hi, I am dealing with college stuff and I've found myself with a bit of a problem. I was not out and had not chosen a name for myself when I applied to schools and I'm not sure how I should go about telling the school my name and pronouns/gender after I've already been accepted (I'm also still not out to my parents and don't plan on coming out until after I graduate). Do you have any idea what I should do or who I should contact?
It really depends on your school! A lot of colleges don’t even have a place to indicate your real name if it’s not yet legal, or a place to indicate your pronouns, so don’t feel like you’ve missed out on anything - a lot of this process often takes place after application and acceptance, anyways.
Most schools don’t have a formal place to record your pronouns. That’s most likely something you would be introducing to people on an individual basis. I usually email professors a week or two before the semester begins to let them know my correct name and pronouns, which gives them time to get acquainted with the language I use and to change my name on their roster, so they know who I am and don’t call out the wrong name in class.
When you’re talking to administrators or other staff, you’ll probably have to choose to come out to them or not. Sometimes if you’re just interacting with one person one time, it’s not really worth the trouble of explaining (as much as that sucks to say, it’s a reality sometimes!).
If you want to try to ask the school to update your name in school records (though like I said, not all schools have infrastructure for that yet), you’re probably best off talking to a department called something like Student Records. Depending on how extensive you want the change to be, you might have to contact other people, like the Registar or even IT (to change your email - try to do this before a semester begins if you choose to do so!). The dean of Student Affairs might also be able to help if you feel overwhelmed or you’re getting unhelpful responses.
Even if your school staff can’t update your records, you’re not completely out of luck! From my experience, I’m lucky in that my undergrad school values diversity - most staff offices have signs up encouraging us to share our pronouns, and once I share my correct name with people, they make a point to remember it. About halfway through my time in college, the school started a program that allowed students with non-legal names to submit their correct name for inclusion on their formal record. My transcript and email are ultimately attached to my deadname, but because they have my correct name on record, I’m rarely addressed by my deadname anymore - yay!
Schools are getting better, too: my graduate school has my correct name on record, and I’m able to use my correct name on my school email.
My main suggestion is confidence. If you go into situations acting like it’s obvious that you have the right for people to respect your name and pronouns (and you do!), people will generally listen. Be friendly but be firm, and if someone gets it wrong, speak up.
Here’s some scripts:
I often start emails from my deadname-attached email like this: “Hi, this is Realname (I don’t use the name attached to this email) and I’m emailing about…”
“The school lists my name as Deadname, but my name is actually Realname, and I use x/y/z pronouns.”
“Would it be possible for you to update school records to reflect the fact that I now use the name Realname? Although it is still my legal name, I no longer go by Deadname.”
If anyone slips up with your name or pronouns, just smile and say your real name or pronouns - either interrupt or wait ‘til they’ve finished their sentence, but if you say it as close as possible to their initial utterance, they’ll feel a lot more embarrassed and are more likely to remember the right thing in the future.