It started out as a favor to a friend. His father had died and left a collection of old records, stacked in cardboard boxes collecting dust on the back porch. My friend asked me, an audiophile, to sift through the old musty-smelling records and save anything I wanted before the rest went to the thrift store or the trash. I began separating them into two piles: broken and not broken.
I delicately sorted through the records, stumbling upon a broad range of material. I saw Elvis, Johnny Cash, The Beatles, rag time piano hits, Charlie Pride, orchestral recordings of Vivaldi and the fox trot, and a Japanese version of the "Tennessee Waltz" to name a few. These records not only spanned the entire gamut of musical genres, but also the size and material of all records made. I found 45s, 33s, and 78s.
The physical makeup of these records was just as broad. I sorted through vinyl, acetate, plastic, and even cardboard records with a plastic side that played. Then I happened upon a record that looked rather unusual. It was the size of a 78, but it was red and, oddly, the black and gold label had a space for someone to write a song's title, date, and speed. The manufacturer's name was Wilcox-Gay Recordio Disc. I set the record aside as one that I would keep and continued my search through the remaining sea of records.
