I am a grown woman. I know it sounds absurd to have a broken heart over records, but it happened. I realize people have REAL problems and REAL heartbreak, but that doesn't change the way I feel.
Record Store Day. April 16 2011. I anxiously wait for its arrival for several weeks. If you read my blog (and you should), you already know all about it. Third Man Records has limited edition releases including colored White Stripes reissues (also The Rome project featuring Jack White and a Karen Elson release. You know, Jack's wife). It is a pretty rare occasion that you can get these types of limited edition releases outside of Third Man Record shop in Nashville. I am excited for the opportunity. I call my favorite Dallas record store, Good Records, and they tell me they will have them.
I plan ahead. We plan to get up at 6am on Saturday morning, leave the house by 6:30 and arrive at Good at 7, one hour before opening. It didn't happen that way. The alarm goes off a six. My first mistake of the day was when I offer to my hubby (who isn't exactly thrilled to wake up early on Saturday morning to stand in line for something Jack White related), "How about we get up at 6:30, leave at 7?" He, of course, agrees and we happily snooze away for 30 more minutes. I'll file this one under, "Things I know now, that I wish I would have known yesterday".
Decked out in my Rolling Record Store shirt, we roll into Good Records at a few minutes before 7:30am and there are about 50 people in front of us. The line doesn't look too bad, as long as all those people in front of me aren't pining for the same thing that I am. I mean, there are A LOT of limited edition releases today, from all kinds of bands. It is VERY possible, most of those people don't even care about the White Stripes. I see some of my Jack-Vault friends in line in front of us. They have much better positioning, but they arrived at 7am (You know, like I planned to). The line builds QUICKLY behind us and before I know it, it is wrapped all the way around the block, probably a good 100 people, before the store even opens.
It is 8am and they open the doors. They decide to avoid a mad house and to let people enter the store 15 at a time. One limited edition release per person. This seems fair and I (not-so) patiently wait. After about 15 or 20 minutes, I see my Jack friends get in the door and I can see them pass by the window from outside with the red and white goodies in their hands. I am happy for them, and hoping still, I will be as lucky.
As my friends exit with their smiles and bags of vinyl, I look through their bags touching what I hope will be mine in a few short minutes. They reassure me that I should be fine, that there seemed to be plenty of White Stripes left.
At 8:45 or so, we finally get our turn in the store. I rush over to the 7" table, only to go from the happiest high of finally getting in, to the lowest low of lows realizing the empty slots behind the cardboard White Stripes placeholders. They are all gone. My heart sinks. I try to find reassurance in the other releases. Rome is also sold out. I pick up a Karen Elson, which honestly at this time feels like a consolation prize. I look at the mile long line for the register and the $15.99 price tag on the back of a 7" record and I am crushed. I honestly felt like I could cry, but I had to remind myself "You are 36 years old! You can't cry over records!" But honestly, I felt that physical sensation of a broken heart that I haven't felt since my dog died in 2006. Ridiculous? Right? Trust me, I know! I have no idea how I have formed such an emotional attachment.
I walk out of the store empty handed. My friends are waiting for me outside. I feel bad now, because at the time I was disappointed and sad and I just wanted to leave. Now that I am calmed down, I wish I could have stayed and caught up with them for a few minutes. (Sorry Leslie!)
The ride home is when I realize the fact that, if we would have got up at 6am like we planned, I would have walked away with everything I wanted. My sweet husband tries to cheer me up with a hug and with some humor. He was nice for letting me work through my disappointment and not calling me out for acting like a 12 year old who doesn't get their way.
Russ pulls into a gas station and says, "Since you are so lucky today, let's buy a couple scratch off lottery tickets". He probably figured the only thing that would cheer me up right then would be to win a million dollars and he would take his chances. I scratched three tickets and won $3. Russ scratched two and won $0. Sure, NOW, I am lucky. Just think of all the money that is still sitting in my bank account right now that would have been long gone had I bought all those records. I tried to reassure myself with these thoughts.
I call another record store in town, Forever Young Records in Grand Prairie, and I found out that they didn't open until 10. However, they tell me by now they have a line wrapped around the store and the guy on the phone doesn't think the White Stripes releases will last long enough for me to get there. Again, if I knew yesterday what I know today, I just would have went there in the first place. It is a less popular record store that opened later. But, I guess you can't live in the past.
So, we decide to celebrate Record Store Day for what it was intended. It is not just about getting our grubby hands on collectible vinyl, it is about supporting and celebrating the local record store. Sheesh, Have we all forgot about the true meaning of the holiday already? Seriously though, Its not all about the getting, its about giving back. We decide to visit a newly established record store called Mad World Records in Denton, TX. We called and the owner let us know that they were not able to get any of the Record Store Day releases. He said the releases are all distributed through the Record Store Day people and they told him flat out the records are distributed first to the record stores that they like best. So, BIG independent record stores like Amobea and Good Records get the releases, but the small new guy couldn't get anything this time. zip.
We decide this is the record store that needs supporting today. So, we make the trek to good 'ole Denton, Texas. This was a nice store with a friendly owner and decent vinyl section. I was still pouting from my loss and couldn't find the joy in anything else, but Russ picked up a record and we met a friend for lunch. I still couldn't quite make eye contact with with the White Stripes poster on the record store wall.
We hit an antique mall in town and this record made me smile for the first time since my disappointment. I know I'll be fine. Life goes on, even without colored vinyl.
To read the some-what happy ending to my story, read my blog titled "Record Store Day Redeemed (sort of)".
Are you following my blog? Simply click the blue 'Join this site' button to the left (you may have to scroll down from the top). Thanks, as always, for your support. Lea-Bean