Found this turntable at a thrift store, and boy did I want it!

I had just told someone the other day about when I was a lil' boy, being the youngest I had inherited great taste in music that may have been a bit mature for my age. I had a stack of hand-me-down records that I played and played on my little portable turntable that I slide under the bed when not in use.

Once when a friend who lived about a mile away moved, I was so sad, then a family with about 9 blond daughters moved in and it was like I forgot I even had had a friend there.

I was in several classes with one girl and one day she rode her bike over to our farm. I took her to my bedroom and we laid on the floor listening to my records and reading the liner notes and Crawdaddy and Cream magazines.

My mom made us Country Time Lemonade and I played her, King Crimson's In the Court of the Crimson King, The Stooges, Cat Stevens' Tea for the Tillerman, Joni Mitchell's Ladies of the Canyon, Ziggy Stardust, Dark Side of the Moon, Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, Elton John's Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy all the way through and then I played his Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding.

It was like we were high. High and crashing on sugar.

Nothing ever happened between us beyond that day of music.

I saw her at school everyday, but in the hallways, as we passed each other, there was that knowing look and nod of the head that told us we knew something no one else there knew. It was like we had bitten into the apple, or chewed a mushroom, we were now different, changed and untouchable.

She was seeing a jock I hated and I sat three desks behind her in English and I played the lyrics over and over in my head:

"And love lies bleeding in my hands. Oh, it kills me to think of you with another man."

Being 12 can suck!