I have no suit, no watch, and nowhere to be. For all I know, I am not waiting for anyone, but no one tells me anything. At least not what I want to hear. After a while, you stop waiting. You find a suit and a watch and somewhere to be, even if it is standing in front of a mirror wondering what it was that kept you so long.
In which a long-time record collector and sometimes poet shares shares vinyl finds, words of worth, and plays keep or cull.
Chasing Perfect Sound Forever 