Music has always been a big part of my life. I took piano lessons as a child. My family would get together with friends and spend the evening singing and playing instruments.
This past summer, when I went to visit my parents, they sent me home with the beautiful old Victrola that sat in my childhood home. It is made of a dark wood and stands about four feet tall on graceful legs. There are two sets of cabinet doors on the front. The top ones are smaller and when open, reveal the “speaker”. There are two volumes on a Victrola – soft and loud – nothing in between. The lower doors house the records on shelves.
The record collection ranges from classical tunes to ragtime, with a lot of depression era “bum” songs thrown into the mix. The records themselves are amazing. Some of the oldest ones only have one song on one side, while the others have a single on each side. They are heavy and thick, nothing like modern vinyl.
My dad showed me how to take the turntable and mainspring out of it to transport it, so I had to assemble the whole thing when I got it home. Of course, I had to make sure it worked, so I pulled out some of the records.
The first record I placed on the turntable was “The Big Rock Candy Mountain.” In a matter of seconds, I was a child again. The sound on the old machine wasn’t clean, or pretty. But to me it was beautiful. It took me back to some of the happiest times of my life.
After changing the needle (you are supposed to change it with every record!), I put on a song called “That’s My Weakness Now” from the 1920s. One of the lyrics says “She’s got eyes of blue. I never cared for eyes of blue. But she’s got eyes of blue, and that’s my weakness now.” I have blue eyes and I remember imagining some guy feeling that way about me.
One song always makes me laugh. It’s simply called “The Bum Song”. The chorus goes like this: “Hallelujah, I’m a bum. Hallelujah, bum again. Hallelujah, give us a hand out, to revive us again.” The tune is really catchy and was one of our favorites. One Sunday, we were sitting in church, and the music director had us open our hymn books. The pianist began playing a familiar tune. It was “The Bum Song”! But it wasn’t. The hymn is called “Hallelujah, Thine the Glory”. None of us could sing because we were trying so hard not to laugh.
Having the Victrola in my home brings me so much joy. It somehow makes me feel closer to my family. Now that my dad is gone, it is like getting a hug from him when I sit and listen to a record.