Its a cold December morning and the heating is on the blink again. Sitting here trying not to freeze, I am still surrounded by cables strewn around which need to be untangled and connected . Memories and meanings. The stories of a curious life .
One wintery December from my early teen years was brightened somewhat by the news that my father had won a prize for being the most successful salesman that year. And what a prize ! A brand new stereo record player , Sinclair amplifier and Wharfdale speakers. So, one snowy Saturday morning he and I set off to drive down to his colleague´s house, some considerable distance away , to pick it up. This journey really sticks in my mind . We didn´t often spend so much time together . I recall us diving down the motorway and then through small villages, deep in snow. It was quite magical, in its own way.
On returning home I set up the system in our living room and the first disc on the new turntable was one of Dad´s , a stereo sampler record, which for some reason was lying around the house. It sounded amazing , as up to now i´de only heard my brother´s old ´Dansette´ style record player with its tiny speakers , and our rather crackly valve wireless.
That year became lodged in my head as the Christmas of the stereo long playing record. And the first one to be unwrapped was a classic which i´de heard a year or so earlier at the house of the daughter of my mother´s friend, Mrs G.
It was ``Bridge over Troubled Water``, by Simon and Garfunkle.
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