Record Store Tales

Part 109: The Summer From Hell!

RECORD STORE TALES Part 109:Β  The Summer From Hell

Summer, 2004.

I had one really, really awful summer at the store.Β  My full-time backup had quit, and head office made the decision not to hire a replacement until the Christmas gear-up season. Β Instead,Β they decidedΒ to spread out the part-timers to cover the hours. Β They were always eager for hours, but not necessarily weekend hours!

I was required to work two Saturdays a month anyway.Β Β That summer, I had to pull a lot more than that. Β Saturdays, Sundays, the odd 12 hourΒ shifts…I didn’t get to the cottage very much that summer. Β Allegedly, one head office staffer was overheard saying to another, β€œIt’s going to be funny watching Mike try to work all summer without a full-timer.”  Good to know they had my back.

I was furious.Β  But I was also defeated.

I had one weekend booked off in July. Β I couldn’t miss that weekend. Β My grandma’s 80th birthday party was that weekend.Β  There was no way in hell that I was going to miss my grandma’s 80th birthday party. Β It was a 2 hour drive away, in Kincardine Ontario.Β  I only have one grandma (88 this year!), but wouldn’t you know it?Β  Nothing ever went smooth for me….

I had a date the previous night (Friday), with this girlΒ who was originally from Thunder Bay.Β  We went outΒ and we had a nice meal followed by a night of drinks.Β  I woke up slightly hungover, but eager to hit the lake, and say hi to grandma. Β Then, my phone rang.Β  Not a good sign.

My least reliable employee, Wiseman, was calling in sick. Β The truth was more likely that he was calling in wasted. Β Somebody had to get the hell over there and cover him. Β And that someone was me.

I pulled in, unshowered, unshaven, and pissed off. Β I had never been so mad at Wiseman in my life. Β It was becoming a far, far too regular occurrence that he was always β€œsick”, and someone had to cover for him. Β You can’t expect every part time employee to give up their Saturday plans and work on no notice, but a manager had to.

To her credit, there was one head office person on duty that weekend, and she came in to take over. Β I will always be grateful to that person for covering me on my grandma’s 80th birthday weekend. Β If memory serves, my great aunt Marie, her sister, made it that weekend too.Β  I think that was the last time I ever saw her,Β she passed away not too long after.

My relationship with head office people was rocky to say the least, especially after that β€œIt’s going to be funny watching Mike try to work all summer…” crack. Β But she did cover me when I needed it.Β  I won’t forget that, and I’ll always be grateful.

The rest of the summer was what it was, weekend after weekend of working, the same grind and drudgery.Β Β The musicalΒ light in the tunnel that summer was the release of Marillion’s double Marbles CD. Β It is my favourite Hogarth-era Marillion to this day, and when I received it that summer, it got me through. Β We didn’t carry it in stock in our store,Β but it was in my car, and on my home player, all summer.Β  It brightened the mood, it kept me going, waking meΒ up in the morning and getting me out the door. Β The Summer of Hell’s bright spot was Marillion, and my grandma.

I would like to dedicate this installment of the Record Store Tales to that one head office person who stepped up and covered for me that day.Β Β We had many knock-down-drag-out arguments over the years, and I’m sure that herΒ side of manyΒ eventsΒ differ from mine. Β Regardless, if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have been present for my grandma’s 80th, and for that I owe her a debt of gratitude.

Thank you.Β  It meant a lot to me.

Below:Β  the soundtrack to that summer

Part 108: Building the Store, Part 2

RECORD STORE TALES PART 108: Building the Store, Part 2

Last time, Statham posted something about a dream he had, of us putting together our own record store.Β I wish I could have had the experience of opening a store without doing work!Β  The reality of it varied.Β  On the couple of times I helped set up a store, it was hardly glamorous.

The first time was when we opened up the first store that I managed.Β  It was the biggest one so far, lots of stock, all crap.Β Junk.Β Shite. Β Basically what we did was,Β maybe starting six months in advance, Β just buy lots and lots and lots of stock.Β  Before long we had, I dunno, maybe 5000 discs, all garbage.Β  Dozens of Jann Arden, Spin Doctors, Michael Bolton…I had so much Michael Bolton that he took up three fucking rows!Β  I even had rare Michael Bolton.Β  Nobody had rare Michael Bolton!Β  Nobody wanted rare Michael Bolton!Β  Then you’d go to the Metallica section, nothing.Β  Kiss, a couple copies of Kiss My Ass.Β  And we had soooo much country.Β  We had buckets of country.Β  And rap artists that you nor I have ever heard of.Β 

Waltz backΒ over to the rock section and browse the classics.Β  Did we have any Floyd?Β  Nothing.Β  Led Zeppelin?Β  Just the tribute album, Encomium.Β  Meat Loaf?Β  Bat 2, but not Bat.Β  We had a couple of Rush discs, like Counterparts, but nothing from the 70’s.Β  No Maiden.Β  No Miles.Β  No Dylan.Β  No Hendrix.

We had no standardized pricing scheme back then.Β  So, if I was pricing Eric Clapton’s Unplugged at $9.99, the guy next to me might have priced it at $11.99 because maybeΒ he liked it more.Β  It was very subjective.Β  Sometimes you knew what a CD was worth brand new and based it on that, sometimes it was so common that it didn’t matter, and sometimes nobody had a fucking clue.Β Β We’d try to fix the pricing it as we went, but it was slow.Β  After we opened,Β a customer would come up with three copies of the same album.Β  “This one is $8.99, this one $9.99, and this one $11.99.Β  Is that because one is more scratched?”Β  Logical question!Β  But no, we just cocked up.

It took weeks to manually input and price all those discs.Β  Shelving them took a couple moreΒ days.Β Making the header cards, setting things up, all told we were at it for maybe a month.Β  Then the big day came and we did our opening.Β  We were only half-equipped:Β  there was no second computer yet, and only half of our CD players for listening station had been bought.Β  Signs were still arriving to be put up.

I’ll never forget our sign that showed up that said, “WE PAY CSAH FOR YOUR USED CDS!”Β 

Regardless of how crappy the stock was, it sold!Β  I couldn’t believe it!Β  There were only a few decent albums and I figured once they were gone, that was it.Β  That wasn’t the case at all.Β  People kept buying the old rap and country discs.Β  Tanya Tucker?Β  Check!Β  We had lots!Β  And people were buying it!

Then, used stuff started coming in at a rapid pace.Β  Crazy stuff too.Β  I remember this one huge Tangerine Dream box set coming in, on the Thursday of the first week.

After we opened and good stuff started coming in by the box full, all the hard work seemed like it was paying off.Β  But the setting up was long and tedious, and I couldn’t stand Todd, who was also on setup duty.Β  But who gives a crap?Β  I spent weeks doing nothing but data entry while listening to music (our own music, which we brought in – of course).Β  I rocked a lot of Deep Purple those weeks.Β  It was awesome.

I remember that I had just found two Purple albums that I wanted:Β  Concerto For Group and Orchestra, and King Biscuit Flower Hour.Β  I also rocked Purpendicular, which had just come out, as much as I could.Β Β  Todd didn’t understand the music at all.Β  All he was interested in listening to was Floyd, nothing else.Β  He played Bush once or twice, but otherwise it was all Floyd.Β  He really, really liked P.U.L.S.E.Β  And he just murdered Floyd for me, for a long time.

When I listen to albums like Concerto and Purpendicular, it brings me right back to doing data entry in that store.Β  Not a bad soundtrack to work to.

Part 107: GUEST SHOT! – Statham: “Building the Store”

RECORD STORE TALES PART 107: Building the Store

Hey folks, Statham here. You’re looking good. Now, sit down and let me tell you a story, it’s a good one.

Last night, I had a dream. One I think you need to hear about, in the context of Mike’s blog. You see, I dreamt that Mike and I opened a record store together. It seems, for the convenience of making things happen, that I had won the lottery again. (I say again because, c’mon, it’s like having won the lottery just being fortunate enough to be me every day of the week). Anyway. The oodles of money secured the financial end of things, thus freeing us up to be creative in the endeavour.

There were a lot of naysayers. Oh boohoo, physical media is dying (if not dead), this would have been great 15 years ago, blah blah blah. Yeah well, alot people would shoot downΒ anythingΒ anyone else wanted to do because they are lazy, needy, selfish and generally dumb. If it had been them in our shoes, they’d want us to be gushing with praise for their initiative, and they’d want us to be giving them doggie treats for being so good and clever. Anyway, we didn’t listen to any of these peoples’ negativity and they soon went away. Relief!

To his credit, Mike was onboard right away. Somehow he was still working his current job too, but also able to be at the shop all the time. Now, we all know Mike is amazing, but he really was breaking the laws of physics, here. Ah, dream-time. It makes no sense, but is the more awesome for it.

So. Being of means, we found that the organization, construction and founding of the shop was just a matter of planning and patience, but it went together very quickly. I have no idea what town we were in when all this was happening, but it hardly matters. Somehow, when the contractors were done, not only was the shop beautiful, bright and spacious, but all the shelves were jammed full of well-organized and thoughtfully chosen CDs, DVDs and games, too. I tell you, I’d really recommend those contractors to you. They were very thorough.

It wasn’t long before our doors were open, and business really started to take off. With Mike’s knowledge and my enthusiasm, it turned out to be a really worthwhile venture. People responded well to our humour, easy-going sales patter that wasn’t like sales-talk at all and, of course, our dashing good looks. It was a winner.

I don’t have a whole lot of specifics for you, just this sense I had that it was a good thing.Β  And that’s all I remember of that dream, in a nutshell.

ANALYSIS:

Well, clearly, all of Mike’s Record Store Tales have entered into my subconscious and activated the part of my brain that has always believed I’d like to work in a record store. Not the one Mike used to work for, from the sounds of it (even though at one point I did apply there), but still. I’ve spent enough time in record shops, so it seemed a natural enough thing to do.

And Freud would probably say this was somehow about my penis. Because everyone dreams about that, surely.

To be continued…


If you haven’t figured it out from past Statham stories, he’s Snake Eyes. I’m the Crimson Guard.

Part 106: My Favourite Aunt

NOTE:Β  I do not actually have a favourite aunt!Β  But there is one thatΒ we CALL “my favourite aunt”!Β  I love both my aunts equally.Β 

Christmas Eve.Β  The year is now forgotten.

I always worked Christmas Eve.Β  It was usually a fun day, people were usually in good spirits.Β  There’d be the odd disgruntled shopper who was upset that you were sold out of Shania.Β  Most people were pretty cool and didn’t want to act like a jerk at Christmas to a stranger.

It was getting close to the end of the day.Β Β  Everything had gone pretty well.Β  I was dressed up in suit and tie.Β  I always did, on Christmas Eve.Β  It was a tradition my boss had started, but I was the only one who carried on with it.Β  (The only thing that bugged me:Β  He made me wear my big, ugly store tag with my suit and tie.Β  This thing was huge, like the size of a post card, laminated, hanging from a string around my neck.Β  The idea was, how were people to know that you worked here if you weren’t wearing your tag?Β  Well, hell, maybe the guy wearing the suit and tie behind the counter knows?)

I was tired, but my Favourite Aunt from Calgary was coming to town!Β  I’ve written about her in past chapters.Β  I only get to see her aboutΒ twice a year, but it was always nice to have her around at Christmas.Β  It didn’t happen every year.

The previous evening, the 23rd, had been marred by a last-minute crackhead woman trying to sell us a garbage bag full of crap CDs at closing time.Β  By comparison the 24th was a cakewalk.Β  Until 5:00.

An hour before closing, I got a phone call from a calm sounding but clearly upset woman.Β  I can’t remember the scenario anymore.Β  All I can remember is that it was a no-win situation.Β  We’d messed something up that couldn’t be fixed.Β  We probably promised to hold something for her that was clearly gone.Β  I can remember that it was for her son, whatever the missing item was.

I apologized, I tried to explain how something like this might have happened, but my apology was not going to be enough.

“That’s not a satisfactory answer,” she said.Β  “You’re going to have to make this right.”

I was tired and there was an hour until closing…and now this.Β  Jesus Christ!

Suddenly, a giggle…a snicker…a laugh.

The woman on the other end of the phone goes, “Michael.Β  Don’t you know who this is?”

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed off!Β  It was Aunt Lynda.Β  My Favourite Aunt.

“You handled that very well,” she added helpfully.

“Thanks a lot!” I said.Β  “I nearly had a heart attack!”

“Oh you’re welcome,” she said, and giggled again.Β  Aww hell, it was nice she was back in town.Β  And it was also nice I wasn’t in shit.Β  If something like that had happened an hour before closing on Christmas Eve for real, that would have haunted me all Christmas, I swear to God.

So, to my Aunt Lynda, who is actually in town again this week, this one goes out to you!Β  It’s good to see you again!

Part 105: 9/11

I slept in. Β For me, sleeping in meant waking up at 7:30 instead of 5:30.Β  I didn’t have to go to work in the morning; I was working the afternoon. Β Instead, I had an oil change booked for my car. Β My dad and I headed out early, had a coffee at Mr. Lube, got the oil changed, and headed back home.

When we got home, my mom was watching the news.Β  β€œAn airplane just crashed into the World Trade Center!” she said.

β€œWhat, like an accident?” I asked.

β€œI don’t know,” she said. Β β€œThey haven’t said.Β  But it was a big plane. Β A passenger plane.”

The second plane collided around this time, because when we all got to the TV, both towers were burning.Β  We just sat there, watching events unfold in shock.

I phoned up Matty K, who was working the morning shift at our store.Β Β He was cut off from the outside world, as he didn’t have TV, radio or internet at the store.Β  I let him know what was going on.Β  He had not heard about it yet. Β I kept him posted throughout the morning any time there was significant news.

I went into work at 1 in the afternoon.Β  It was all anybody wanted to talk about, customers and staff, understandably so. Β Everybody was freaked out, especially when it became obvious that this was a well coordinated attack. Β Some were scared, some were concerned for family members traveling, but most of us were just freaked right out.

It was a weird day to work, and the store was pretty dead that afternoon as everyone stayed home to watch the news. Β In the end, we all just wanted to go home and do the same thing.

We couldn’t justΒ go home and watch the news.Β  There was aΒ meeting scheduled that night at 9:30 pm, that store managers had to attend. Β None of us really wanted to be there, but it was decided not to cancel the meeting, even thoughΒ our minds were anywhere else but work. Β OurΒ thoughts wereΒ with the lost, the survivors, the families, and trying to make sense out of those tragic events.

Part 104: A Nightmare on Cocknuckles Street

Please, people:Β  Before you pick up your phone, andΒ call and swear at someone, please make sure you’re calling the RIGHT DAMNΒ PLACE!
Β 
In December 2005, an angry guy called.Β  He had a CD order that he was waiting for.Β  Three discs.Β  He had been waiting a week.Β  I checked inventory, and there was nothing in stock.Β  This pissed him off a lot.Β  These were gifts.Β  I began trying to solve this by retracing the order steps.
Β 
I double checked the titles — nothing.Β  I checked orders in our system — nothing for this guy, and nothing for the titles he was asking for.Β  I checked everything under his name to see if we had anything he’d requested, at all!Β  Nothing.Β Β Nothing with this guy’s name on it, nothing with the titles heΒ had ordered.Β  What happened?Β Β Had we cocked it up?
Β 
“How is that fucking possible?Β  I was standing right there in front of you geniuses!Β  You told me it was available, and it would be there in a week!Β  Are you saying you morons screwed up?”
Β 
I just loveΒ that kind of language!Β  Β 

“No, I’m not saying we screwed up, I’m just trying to figure this out.Β  There’s something missing here.Β  You say you were standing here?Β  As in, you didn’t phone in this order?”
Β 
“I was standing right there in front of you idiots.Β  I asked for those discs and you said a week!”
Β 
“OK, again, I’m just trying to clarify here:Β  You were standing right here where I am, at our store on Cocknuckles Street?” (Address changed for blog.)
Β 
“No! Β I was at the one atΒ Dicklock Street!Β  Jesus Christ!” (Address also changed for blog…I hope you figured that on your own though.)
Β 
“Well, that’s the problem right there.Β  You just called Cocknuckles Street.Β  We wouldn’t have any record ofΒ another store’s order.”
Β 
“Well FUCK!”
Β 
And then he hung up.Β  No, “I’m sorry for being rude,” or “Sorry for the mistake,” or “Sorry for yelling.”Β  Just “FUCK!” and then a hang up.
Β 
I called the other store on Dicklock Street a little later.Β  I asked if this guy called for his order.Β  He did, and he was polite as can be.
Β 
Jerkoff.


“Boring conversation anyway…”

Part 103: Grubby

The same things happened more than once, but my old writings from back in the day still survive, and are remarkably detailed.Β  It is for that reason that I can relay to you this delightful day that I had with aΒ guy that I shall dub Grubby.

One afternoon, this grubbyΒ looking guy walked into the store with a cardboard box of discs.Β  He was wearing track paints and a stained T-shirt.

Β β€œI wanna sell these,” he said.

Β Glancing at the box, estimating how many were in there, and how long it might take to go through them, I said, β€œOK, no problem. Β Give me 20-30 minutes to go through them all.”

Β β€œ20 or 30 minutes?Β  Why so long? Β Can’t you just tell me what they’re worth?”

Β β€œNot without going through them,” I said. Β β€œI have to check them all for quality and then check to see what we have in stock, and what we pay for it.”

β€œThey all sound fine.Β  I listened to them on the way here,” he assured me. Β Needless to say, I could not accept that at face value, especially when I started looking at them.Β Β Many looked like a well-used hockey rink, before the zamboni comes out to resurface the ice!

Β β€œWhat do you think?” he asked me after a few moments.

I was starting to lose my patience.Β  I hadn’t gotten through more than aΒ dozen yet. Β I said β€œI don’t know yet.Β  I haven’t even started thinking about pricing yet, I’m still checking out the condition.Β  If you want to look around, I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

β€œNo, I’m not interested in buying anything. Β I said they all play.”

β€œI’m sure that they do. Β But we have to be sure of that, and we also have visual standards that all our discs have to hold,” I said. Β I hated the kind of customer that would stand there and watch every move I make!Β  It’s distracting.Β  It really pushed my buttons.

β€œYou can play them if you want,” he answered.

β€œWell, I don’t have time for that. Β It would take days to play them all.”

“Well you don’t play them all the way through!Β  You just skip through them!”

Obviously, you canΒ samples bits and pieces of a CD without hearing a single skip, because a skip can be anywhere on the album.

The guy huffed and then finally started looking around.Β  This allowed me to actually check the discs for quality with a careful visual once-over.Β Β Then, I arranged them into piles based on that criteria. Β Some were mint, some not, and some were just hacked. Β The guy looked around for 5 or 6 minutes and came back. Β By this time, I was at the computer, pricing the discs.Β  Before I knew it though, Grubby was into my price piles, and re-arranging the discs! Β He was putting similar things together, but he was mixing up the system I had. Β 

When I saw this, I said, β€œOh, can you please leave them in those piles? Β I had them all organized.”

β€œWhat’s this pile?” he asked.

β€œThose are discs I am passing on. Β They are all just a little too scratched for us to take, and some are pretty common titles.”

β€œI already told you they all play fine!” Β He was raising his voice now.

β€œI know,” I said, trying to stay patient. Β β€œThe thing is, all the discs we sell, we try to keep them a certain quality standard. Β They all have to look as new as possible.Β  These ones are just not good enough for the standards. Β Sorry…I don’t make up these rules.Β  I know they probably play fine, but you can always try selling them at a pawn shop. Β They don’t care how a discs looks.”

β€œFuck,” he said.Β  β€œI don’t want to have to go someplace else. Β I want to get rid of them all right now.”

β€œAt best,” I said, β€œI think I’ll be able to take a little more then half of these.”

β€œWhat?” the guy yelled.Β  β€œThat’s fucked! Β They’re all fine! Β They all play fine!Β  This is so fucking stupid.”

β€œI’m sorry about that, butΒ I’m not done going through them. Β I might be able to do better. Β Just give me a little more time.Β  I’m almost ready.”

β€œForget it.Β  I want to sell them all, or nothing.” Β He began packing his discs back into the box. Β 

I hated when this happened, because 7 times out of 10, they’d be back. Β And because he put the discs away, messing up my system of price piles, if he came back I’d have to look at them all again. Β Which is what happened.Β  He came back later that evening. Β Maybe he was hoping somebody else (less picky) would be working, but at least the second time he came in, I didn’t have to explain everything twice. Β I did however have to explain that I couldn’t remember how I had the discs organized, so I’d have to look at them again.

All told, I probably spent an hour with Grubby that day, buying a bunch of crappy discs that would sit for months.

Yep.Β  Just an average day of a Record Store Guy!

Part 102.5: Coda – “Dumped In Barrie”

After getting Dumped in Barrie, I came back home and began the process of “getting over it”.Β  I was now sick with a cold, too.Β  My immune system had gone toΒ shit, working those crazy hours.

I ran into DandyΒ at one of the stores, while doing a stock transfer.

“Hey,” he said.Β  “I think I saw that chick JJJulie at the mall with some fat guy.”

“Really?”Β I said.Β  “Are you sure?Β  She’s not from here.Β  She lives in Etobicoke.”

“Yeah,” he replied.Β  “She had pink in her hair right?Β  But, like, faded?”

“Yeah,” I growled.Β  She just dumped me the weekend before, and I knew who the fat guy was, too.Β  “This fat guy.Β  Did he have a shaved head?”

“Yeah dude,”Β nodded Dandy.

So we just broke up, and she was already seeing this other dude!Β  I confronted her about it, and she eventually admitted to coming to town to “see” him.Β  This is five days after dumping me.Β  Five days!Β  Well, she wasn’t just “seeing him”.Β Β I later found out that theyΒ “did the deed” that day, before his shift at the local McDonalds.

When he found out that I knew about this, he came into my store to make amends, because he genuinely wanted to make up and be friends.Β  He delivered me a tray of two McDonalds triple thickΒ McShakes as a peace offering.

True story!

Part 102: Dumped in Barrie

Once again, I found myself on the road. Β CDs were not completely dead and we were still expanding. Β We opened a new location in Barrie, Ontario. It seemed like a good location, and the store had a good layout, with plenty of space and a huge back room for storage. Β The shelves were well stocked and the place looked great.Β  They didn’t have a lot of great, unique stock yet:Β  It usually took time for a store to grow that way.

As usual I was chosen to do a large share of staff training. Β I was sent there for 7 days in total, split over two weekends, training 3 or 4 people. Β The higher-ups who sent me there chose not to be there on the weekends themselves. Β That’s why they sent me.Β  I understand that this arrangement was considered β€œfunny” by those who didn’t have to spend their weekends there, or so I was told.

I packed a cooler bag full of lunches and drinks so I wouldn’t have to keep buying food and charging it to the company. Β It was easier than running out for food, and it was better for the company. Β I was the only one who did this.Β  All I charged to the company at the end of it all was one meal at Burger King, while others charged wine and expensive meals, so it was alleged to me. Β I didn’t even charge my use of Highway 407 to the company, since it was my personal, last-minuteΒ choice to use the highway to get home faster. Β Nobody cleared me to use it, therefore IΒ chose to footΒ the bill myself.

I was also at the tail end of another relationship.Β  I was going out with this chick who called herself β€œJJJewels”.Β  She was generous and fun, but not ready to be in a relationship with a guy who hated his job and every waking moment he was at work. Β I don’t hold the breakup against her, just the way she went about it.

After a grueling 12 hour day of training and work, I checked into my hotel room. Β I wandered around for 20 minutes lugging my cooler bag full of food before I found the actual room. Β I went to bed immediately, exhausted, when my cell phone rang. Β It was JJJulie.Β  She was dumping me over the phone while I was in a hotel room in Barrie.Β  I couldn’t believe it!

I sat there in bed, just shocked that anybody could dump another person while sitting miserably alone in a hotel room in Barrie.Β  On the other hand, it was inevitable, so there was also a sense of relief.

I called my goodΒ friend Shannon the next day and told her what had happened. Β It was now Saturday, and I was really lonely stuck in a Barrie hotel room with nobody around to talk to. Β The room had two beds, so I asked Shannon if she wanted to come up Saturday night. Β Kindly, she grabbed some board games and drove up.Β  That little gesture meant a lot and it was the only ray of light in the whole time I was in Barrie. Β The others who came to Barrie during the week were already with their friends and significant others, because they worked with them. Β I took Shannon out to dinner at Red Lobster (paying for it myself, not asking the company to pay for my dinner) and we played Monopoly. Β It really helped a lot.

That night, we were awakened by the sound of a hockey team partying in the hallways.Β  I woke up, and stuck my face out the door and scowled. Β There were half a dozen hockey players.

β€œHey man!Β  Want a beer?”

I shook my head and closed the door.Β  They got the hint and moved it into their room.

The following weekend was much like the first; a cooler bag full of lunches, driving up Highway 400 with Gordon Lightfoot, and Guns N’ Roses on the deck. Β The second weekend was marginally better than the first; at least I didn’t get dumped this time. Β I didn’t want to spend another Saturday night in a hotel room though. Β Saturday night we closed at 6, and we didn’t open again until Sunday at noon. Β I wanted to drive home Saturday night and spend it at home, not alone in exile in Barrie. Β However the hotel room was already reserved for Friday and Saturday nights.

I told my boss that I preferred driving home on Saturday night, and back on Sunday.Β I’m guessing the hotel room must have been cheaper than the mileage, because he said no. Β I should have just done it anyway, but I followed orders and spent a miserably lonely Saturday night by myself in Barrie. Β It just indicated to me that the powers that be had lost the plot and had no understanding of morale.Β  It would have done me a world of good to spend Saturday night with friends, like everyone else does.

When it was all said and done, after two weeks of no time off, and two weekends of exile in Barrie, they rewarded me with a Monday off.Β  I spent that bitter Monday in my pajamas watching movies and stuffing my face full of junk food. Β The day was over before I knew it, my one day of rest was done. Β Back to the grind.

If memory serves, this was the very last time we opened a new store.Β  The decline of brick-and-mortar music sales meant that I wouldn’t be doing anymore of those weekend training missions.Β  Thank God!

Part 101: Record Store Long Weekends

There was never a guarantee that you were going to get a long weekend off.Β  But when you did, and the temperature was above 12 degrees, you went to the cottage!

Going to the cottage, in the era when I only had a cassette deck in the car, meant picking out the best “road tapes” for the mood.Β  Depending on the time of day (some music works best on evening drives), my favourites for the cottage were these:

SLOAN: 4 Nights at the Palais Royale

From driveway to driveway, this album is exactly the length of the drive!Β  Plus it’s one of my top five live albums of all time. Day or night, this was my #1 pick.

QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE:Β  Songs for the Deaf

It’s pretty much designed for a road trip, but it also just captures that vibe of the long highways at night, and serves to keep you awake!Β  This was a night drive album.

BLUE RODEO:Β  Tremelo

Also a night album.Β  Very mellow, for those laid back cottage weekends.

THE BEATLES:Β  The Beatles (the White Album)

I don’t always listen to the Beatles.Β  But when I do, I prefer the White Album.

JOHNNY CASH:Β  At San Quentin

My favourite Cash album of all time.Β  Of all time!Β  This was great for the weekends that I drove my grandma up.Β  I have it in box set form now, so it’s a real nice extended treat today.

Have a great, safe long weekend, folks!