It's been kind of an odd day here. I'd been feeling the urge to wander up the hill to the Goodwill store and browse the books section, and then maybe hit the health foods department in Family Dollar (Little Debbies, Moon Pies) but every time I started pulling myself together to amble that way clouds rolled in, ominous rumbling sounds were heard, and sheets of rain began to fall.
So I've spent most of the day reading and listening to music, thanks to Ranger Bob and Utah Savage both mentioning classic songs and groups in recent posts. They inspired me to dust off the record player and then stroll down memory lane.
Most of what I've played today consists of LPs I'd forgotten I owned, regional oddities from the late '60s like The Baroques (think they were from Milwaukee) and the Tayles (a Madison band, think their sole LP release was "Who Are These Guys"). I probably saw some of the groups live, but, as the saying goes, "if you can remember the 60s, you weren't there."
For some reason the Baroques always remind me of carnivals -- they sound a lot like the organ music that plays in the background on the midway, especially "Mary Jane" and "Rose Colored Glasses." Maybe it's the harpsichord. "Iowa, A Girl's Name," on the other hand, has lyrics and chords that seem to have been written for "F Troop." Really strange.
Although nothing has been particularly memorable, I'm not regretting dragging all this vinyl around through multiple moves over the past 30+ years. I guess all the true turkeys in the record collection got made into flower pots long ago.