
MY GRANDMA HAD A GIANT STEREO.
It was wooden with a giant speaker on each side. You'd have to open the big compartment in the middle to reveal the turntable, with silver buttons beside it, and a huge analog display with knobs that would move little red marker inside the display to seek out a radio station.
My grandma forbade me and my brothers from ever touching the stereo when we were kids. Only time we could ever touch it was when we were cleaning the house or moving to a new place, which we did a lot. Every time we moved, we would always have to find a way to lug that big thing in and out of the moving truck.
And it had to be near the kitchen.
Why? Because for every barbecue, birthday, or just every other Tuesday, right before cooking, she would open that compartment, place the record on a turntable. The first sound I always heard was the crackling that came from the grooves, like hearing the sound clear itself the way a person would clear their own throat. And then, after a little silence, the music shoots out of the speakers and filled our entire home.
I was too young to remember what she would listen to. Only thing I remember is the loud percussions, men and women singing, and the loud drums. The sound wasn’t as crystal-clear as a typical radio signal or a CD. But it sounded warm. The peaks never broke, yet you could hear every word, every strum, and every horn.
After years of use, the giant stereo had to be retired. But every now and then I would reminisce about my grandma cooking whatever she pleased in the kitchen.
Soon, without realizing it, I’ve grown a massive love for vinyl records as well. And luckily for me, I have an awesome library that got just what I want.
Nashville Public Library has brought Vinyl records to their catalog. And I’ve been listening a few that came to mind.