theres a massive landfill close to my parents house (WEST COVINA REPRESENT!)
I've often thought on a boring day of going large scale dumpster diving for records but then I remember that theres supposed to be nuclear waste there too.
The dump is a scary, scary place. I went to the one in Oakland when I was doing work for Habitat for Humanity, and it is scary to see how much junk we create and throw into landfills.
Back in my younger days I used to collect beer cans. We used to go "dumping" quite regularly (lotsa fun in Georgia in the summertime). Scored some nice raers every now and then.
"Okay that one I'll have to get back to you on, that's a really rare one...."
You know, the last time I was in there, which must have been three years ago, I came in right at the end of the day when dude wasn't there.
I started flipping through all of the garbage in the jazz room, and within twenty minutes came up on 'Niara', 'He's Coming', and the first Earth, Wind, & Fire record.
I go up to the counter and the guy working is kind of unsure about selling me anything when this boss isn't around. He isn't sure how to price the records I brought up.
'Umm, come on man, it's the end of the day, just sell me these and we can both go home.'
'Okay, okay' - look of shell-shocked doubt and revenge on his face, product of the psychological trauma of working there - 'how about twenty bucks for all three?'
Totally bizarre, every other time I've been in there it's been total garbage.
"Okay that one I'll have to get back to you on, that's a really rare one...."
You know, the last time I was in there, which must have been three years ago, I came in right at the end of the day when dude wasn't there.
I started flipping through all of the garbage in the jazz room, and within twenty minutes came up on 'Niara', 'He's Coming', and the first Earth, Wind, & Fire record.
I go up to the counter and the guy working is kind of unsure about selling me anything when this boss isn't around. He isn't sure how to price the records I brought up.
'Umm, come on man, it's the end of the day, just sell me these and we can both go home.'
'Okay, okay' - look of shell-shocked doubt and revenge on his face, product of the psychological trauma of working there - 'how about twenty bucks for all three?'
Totally bizarre, every other time I've been in there it's been total garbage.
Don't get me wrong I've come up in Bop St. before, $7 for a Monty Alexander-Rass, or $10 for Black Slate-Amigo Dub Lp that I flipped for $150. I just can't stand Dave. Luckily he doesn't remember me since I didn't go there for awhile. He knew my boys who took me there when I first came to Seattle, which was a blessing and a curse. Who knows how long it would have taken me to find Bop St. on my own, but being associated with a few of Seattle more famous diggers meant everything I wanted must be worth big $$$. It took a couple years of not going there to erase that stigma.
JoeMojo
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I've often thought on a boring day of going large scale dumpster diving for records but then I remember that theres supposed to be nuclear waste there too.
HOLY SHIT! Anyone else see the Moments on HOG in there??
The dump is a scary, scary place. I went to the one in Oakland when I was doing work for Habitat for Humanity, and it is scary to see how much junk we create and throw into landfills.
is that Bop St.?
each 45 is a hundred bucks. oh wait, there not for sale
People throw away good shit
DIE!
The dangerously misread LP.
Sealed. 10 cents.
True
"Okay that one I'll have to get back to you on, that's a really rare
one...."
You know, the last time I was in there, which must have been three years ago, I came in right at the end of the day when dude wasn't there.
I started flipping through all of the garbage in the jazz room, and within twenty minutes came up on 'Niara', 'He's Coming', and the first Earth, Wind, & Fire record.
I go up to the counter and the guy working is kind of unsure about selling me anything when this boss isn't around. He isn't sure how to price the records I brought up.
'Umm, come on man, it's the end of the day, just sell me these and we can both go home.'
'Okay, okay' - look of shell-shocked doubt and revenge on his face, product of the psychological trauma of working there - 'how about twenty bucks for all three?'
Totally bizarre, every other time I've been in there it's been total garbage.
Don't get me wrong I've come up in Bop St. before, $7 for a Monty Alexander-Rass,
or $10 for Black Slate-Amigo Dub Lp that I flipped for $150. I just can't stand
Dave. Luckily he doesn't remember me since I didn't go there for awhile. He knew
my boys who took me there when I first came to Seattle, which was a blessing and a
curse. Who knows how long it would have taken me to find Bop St. on my own, but
being associated with a few of Seattle more famous diggers meant everything I wanted
must be worth big $$$. It took a couple years of not going there to erase that stigma.