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Small Objects

recordspacerI love the sound of vinyl records. I wish I still had all my vinyl records. I loved sitting on the floor of my bedroom with a stack of 45 records. I shaved several years of sanity off my mother by playing “Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree” over and over and over. I think the military used incessant music as a form of torture in Gitmo. The FBI used it in Ruby Ridge, too.

But I love music. Old music and new music. I loved playing my 45 records on 33 or 78. My sons don’t even know what it means to play 33, 45 or 78. In a mere 20 years knowledge gets lost. Archeologists will find these plastic spacers and have no idea of their use or purpose. Impossible to deduce from its shape. But without this little piece of plastic there was no possible way to play a 45 record.

Sometimes the simplest almost inconsequential thing – that thing that seems disposable – is the one thing that is vital and required.

What is that thing in my day today? What was it in your day yesterday? I love these little objects d’ necessity. They make me pause and give thanks. Without them, life just would not be the same.

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