Can I Have My Money Back?

Allow me to clarify the greeting: With a tip of the hat to the Virgil Sollozzo character – “If you consider $5,000 speaker cables…spare wire…te salud, Don Fremer!”

First, let me say, I genuinely enjoy your reviews. You have a splendid way of characterizing the intricacies of the exceedingly complex physical forms and functions of the analog hardware you are blessed (or cursed) to review. Keep up the stellar work.

Now for the “Missed You” tie-out. It took me 40 years to figure out who “that guy” was. In 1980, a dear friend of mine was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I was nominated as “the Scrounger” to acquire something on his “kak-list”: “Freddy King Gives You a Bonanza of Instrumentals”.

I began the trek at my favorite LP vendor, Grammy & Granny in Westchester, CA, down the street from LAX. My man gave me about ten tips to pursue and forlornly wished me luck. Sadly, I was not successful. I looped back to G&G to let him know he was right about the Bonanza’s scarcity.

As I was leaving, he stopped me and handed me a bundle of comedy albums I coveted. Most desired was Redd Foxx “You Gotta Wash Your Ass” and a Henny Youngman. He told me he tossed in a couple others that he thought might cheer me up.

Back home, I took the LPs out of the paper bag and put them in my “To be Filed” stack, what you chaps call “In Heavy Rotation”. There in front was a guy sporting what we called a “white-fro”. He was the spitting-image of my friend’s brother, only with slightly looser curls. That night at bowling, I told Jon I found a comedy album with his brother’s likeness. Jon said he would come over that weekend to listen and play darts. Never happened. After bowling, I discovered I had been burglarized. They got my stash, cash, and “To be Filed” stack of LPs. The guy with the “white-fro” was gone, along with Redd and my most treasured LP: The Who Quadrophenia (original UK pressing secured during the petroleum crisis). I still miss that album.

Forty years later, when I learned the evil ways of the internet, I stumbled upon Analog Planet. There, before me, was the album cover and THAT GUY with the “white-fro”. It was YOU. I am sorry that I never got to hear your shtick. I have been reading your reviews for years, never knowing that we crossed paths ever so briefly back in 1980.

May your spindle-holes be concentric and your vinyl flat.

Peace and Warm Regards,

Glenn