Was digging through records to take with me for spinning tonight at a Cuban restaurant in town, and I was missing some 45s I’d meant to spin. I figured the Record Gods were holding out on me, so I didn’t press it. But then two whole boxes of 45s, including the ones having the key Peruvian cumbia 45s I meant to have with me, showed up behind a demolition derby trophy I got at a junk store. The Record Gods teased me, but came through.
I have a sort of chaotic method to organizing my life, which is going to become annoying as I get older and forget things more rapidly. Mostly everything is sort of sorted into levels of importance or dopeness, so I know certain boxes of 45s are top notch, some are good, others are mid but might contain gems, and some are banished to the upstairs hallway and I really should get rid of them probably (although what if my tastes change and there are hidden gems?). So nothing is alphabetized, I kind of have a hip hop 45 box and a cumbia 45 box, but other than that, it’s pure chaos method, where the cream rises to the top of the box chain, and I just go with that. That leaves me always searching, because I don’t have a perfect order where I can go, “Oh, I want to find this one particular New Horizons 45,” because it’s just in the whole mass of 45s, somewhere. And for someone who desires total control and order in their world, that’s probably difficult. But I enjoy the magic, of finding lost gems, realizing I have a clean copy of something I thought was only scratchy the last time I played the other version, and just general faith that the Record Gods know I’m acting with pure heart and will always reward me because of that. But as I’ve gotten older, in fact older than I thought I’d ever live to be, I realize I love and value magic far more than order. I don’t want instability, so basic order is nice. But having everything mapped out and predicted feels very non-magical to me, and likely ain’t my metaphysical heritage anyways. So we keep it chaotic good around here, and likely always will.
I have a sort of chaotic method to organizing my life, which is going to become annoying as I get older and forget things more rapidly. Mostly everything is sort of sorted into levels of importance or dopeness, so I know certain boxes of 45s are top notch, some are good, others are mid but might contain gems, and some are banished to the upstairs hallway and I really should get rid of them probably (although what if my tastes change and there are hidden gems?). So nothing is alphabetized, I kind of have a hip hop 45 box and a cumbia 45 box, but other than that, it’s pure chaos method, where the cream rises to the top of the box chain, and I just go with that. That leaves me always searching, because I don’t have a perfect order where I can go, “Oh, I want to find this one particular New Horizons 45,” because it’s just in the whole mass of 45s, somewhere. And for someone who desires total control and order in their world, that’s probably difficult. But I enjoy the magic, of finding lost gems, realizing I have a clean copy of something I thought was only scratchy the last time I played the other version, and just general faith that the Record Gods know I’m acting with pure heart and will always reward me because of that. But as I’ve gotten older, in fact older than I thought I’d ever live to be, I realize I love and value magic far more than order. I don’t want instability, so basic order is nice. But having everything mapped out and predicted feels very non-magical to me, and likely ain’t my metaphysical heritage anyways. So we keep it chaotic good around here, and likely always will.
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