Thursday, May 10th, 2007
Several months ago, I went on an eBay spree and bought several old postcards of Alabama scenes, many of them with writing on them. I especially like the type that look like little ink drawings colored in pastels.
I framed these six a while back but never got around to hanging them because I didn’t have a great spot. This spot in the dining room isn’t great, but it will do. I’m glad to have them up finally.
While I toiled with the measuring tape, the level and the electric drill trying to get the stupid frame hung (it’s the kind that requires two screws, ugh), I played one of the records I bought at Agora, a vintage shop in Athens, Georgia, when I visited my sister. I love records the way I love my 1920s toaster and 1960s mixer – they have that vintage-y flavor yet they’re utterly usable. Plus, records have such an authentic, imperfect sound – the closest I’ll get to Bob singing in my dining room – and they remind me of when I was very small and my mom played us records of 1950s hits (“Earth Angel” is a favorite of mine for this reason).
Here’s what I bought at Agora:
The mambo’s for dancing, the bluegrass is for Darwin, and the classic rock – that’s for me.