life risking digging stories

shitzrshitzr 648 Posts
edited October 2007 in Strut Central
yesterday i hit up a garage sale that had 15 banana boxes filled with records. they were set up where that you had to stand in one box in order to go through the box behind it. standing in the fourth box i noticed a fat ass black widow. i rushed to get out the box and move on to the next only to find two more in it. from then on i saw at least one in every other box i stood in. worth it? yes. notable pull: imamu amiri baraka "it's nation time" lp and some other spoken word records.last trip to hawaii i went to a house buy. the house was uninhabitable and strictly used as a junkyard. the woman claimed that she had thousands of records in the house but they were scattered all over the place and she would have to dig through some other junk. she also warned me that there was a water leak four months ago, and since no one lives there she didn't find out until maybe a week after it started. so as soon as she opened the door, the most horrificaly powerful musty smell of mold hit me like a linebacker. the year round humidity made it the worst must i've ever experienced. i look in, and you literally cannot even see the floor. you had to walk on piles of shit at least a foot off the floor. the best way to describe it is like trying to find records in that trash compactor scene in star wars. every breath i took, i know i was losing an hour of my life expectancy. there were alot of records though, scattered everywhere just like she said. i spent two hours of climbing over flea market junk to search around the house for raers.worth it? i'm still not able to make that call. notable pulls: coasters "on broadway", wailers "outburst", and purdie "stand by me".plaese add.

  Comments


  • shooteralishooterali 1,591 Posts
    I???m going to let this place I used to go to in S.E. Georgia remain secret!! I used to make a 4 hour drive down to visit my family and dig for records while seeing them on the weekends. This place used to be an old school supplies store then went out of business in the late 90???s. Over the years it remained boarded up until an older dude made the decision to open an old antique mall/junk pile flea market with a lot of his old shitty records. Now this place was hot and no one IMO in South East GA really is in to digging like I was at the time. Little country as town with this shack didn???t have any air condition at the time it first opened. So I???m in this place crawling around like a damn little lost puppy. Red clay and dust is everywhere. Spiders and sand gnats biting the hell out of you because they are attracted to the sent of your sweat were bad enough. But here???s the shit, the place was infested with flees. I kept itching and scratching my body for the 6 to 8 hours I was in there. I get home; celebrate since I found some nice stuff. The next 2 or 3 days I noticed this rash all over my hands, on my stomach and back of my neck. Come to find out after I went to the doctor I was bit by two different spiders plus the flees. My body was just reacting to the bits in a bad way. Apparently the spiders weren???t deadly. The mosquitoes, flees and gnats caused me to break out allover after being bit. It was just a mixture of species eating my ass alive. I walked around after that for 2 weeks applying calamine lotion everywhere. I have to say I didn???t really risk my life but the experience was memorable.

  • kalakala 3,361 Posts
    I'll deal with some fleas and spiders,mold,rats,mice,rat shit etc any day of the week instead of some dumb ass humans with firearms.

    Aside from all the fucked up nasty ass sewage/water flooded basements[used rubber gloves/rubber fishing boots]and found a sexy coffee pot and a soul brothers 6 promo pack in an un opened envelope addressed to a radio station amidst that specific foulness] and asbestos caves I've dug thru in search of wax the worst most memorable experience was not bug/animal/germ/virus/pustule/pyle/bodily fluid or even......yes-BACTERIA related.
    JULY 1998
    I was in Spring Valley NY-Rockland county hitting up a reggae shop and a furniture store on the squirrel.
    Spring Valley is primarily Hasedic Jewish and Jamaican,just like Crown hieghts/Brownsville,but its "upstate" bout 40 minutes north of NYC.

    I was done with the reggae shop and walking up the block to the furniture store
    and I stop at a patty spot and get a coconut juice.

    As i am walking out ,putting the straw in my drink,I see an SUV driving slow down the street.
    I think nothing of it happily sipping my drink.
    Then on cue out of some grade b hip hop video it's on.

    The SUV is driving slow ,the windows roll down and pop pop pop sounds like firecrackers.
    It happened in 3 seconds flat right in front of me.
    A gang of 5-6 Jamaican dudes 1/4 of a block ahead of me start yelling
    dragging their boy round the corner and begin to return fire,down the street,shooting at the moving vehicle and in my direction.

    I hit the deck ,more shots volley.
    Lucky me adding more drama to the already randomly violent episode I heard a Frickin' richochet like in the gottdamm cowboy movies.

    I roll on the sidewalk and crouch between and behind a car,tripping balls.........hard.
    Mind you this is all on main street at like 5:30-6 in the evening.
    WTF????
    As you would expect in a moment like this one,I found GOD....fast.

    I am having a peak human experience,the wheels inside my head are spinning fast.
    Adrenalin is pumping my viens like fire,the facade of life and all of its unimportant,frivolous,idiosyncratic,mundane daily stupidities are sheared of in a nanosecond,leaving me agog to confront the basic components of my existence/soul.
    Me ,Myself and I..all alone,left to confront my pathetic Woody Allen like inner voice,an intense nervousness that wants nothing more than to continue to breathe air and avoid bullets.

    My being,Everything I have and lived for now reduced to this fucked up moment,crouched in the gutter pondering what it is to be a sentient being/Human Being and how it might feel to get ended over some random bullshit that I did not provoke-visions of being filled with hollow points and the inevitable dirt nap that follows.
    In other words I was buggin'the fuck out and shit.

    Faster then you can say SWING LOW SWEET MOTHERFUCKIN CHARIOT I belly crawled across the sidewalk,shook like a little girl in a Wes Craven Movie,right into a beauty salon/braids spot that had no idea what was the fuck was going on.
    These ladies thought I was ass out crazy when I crawled into they shop like muthafuckin rambo.
    They were carryin' on talking they heads off like women will do in beauty parlors,totally oblivious to the lead storm outside the shop.
    I told them what was up and they all ran to the back of the shop with a quickness and called the fuzz.
    In 5 minutes time the cops were there and I stuck my neck outside the door and the coast looked clear.
    I went to the furniture store grabbed some heat most memorably the fudge pudge 12 and some sealed Biz joints} -and rolled the fuck outta there.
    the burbs can be sneaky yo


    Next day in the paper found out there was 1 dead,[most likely the dude I saw get shot]
    The SUV shootas got away and the crew they hit on the street got busted with firearms charges.
    There were plenty of other witnesses so I did not want or have to involve myself with the POPO in any way.
    After that day I realized life is but a dream -and not much really matters in the big picture except survival-which in of itself is totally random and chaotic-just like your conception/birth -the you that is "here",that specific sperm and egg from a fuck.....Fucker.

  • white_teawhite_tea 3,262 Posts
    the best way to describe it is like trying to find records in that trash compactor scene in star wars.

    That's a funny image.

    Cool thread. My life has never been threatened while searching for records. I feel blessed (and perhaps sheltered).

  • pcmrpcmr 5,591 Posts
    Riding my bike with two huge plastic bags filled hanging off of each handle with records and backpack filled with records, front and back tray filled with records

    worse swerve followed by sidewlak bump close to death moves...

    but made it back in one piece...

    and enjoyed all the pieces i had picked up

    i felt like K in canada for a subtle second..close to danger..but finally K[arma] vindicated me and i could rest once more
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