Not too long after my gramma gave me a pocket transistor radio, it became pretty clear to my parents that I was sicko for sound. They got me one of those little record players in the close up case, you know, with the fuzzy grey turntable? Man, did I wear out those 45's. OK, here comes the embarrassing part, man this is tough ~~~
G GG Gaaaa Gary Lewis and the Playboys. There, I said it. LOL I used to come home from school and sing my little slowly dropping nuts off. But I widened my horizons quickly and was singin' Da Do Ron Ron before you knew it. There was a bunch of good stuff. When the records got so worn out they skipped constantly I tried something I heard somewhere. I took my mom's lipstick and rubbed it on the record. When that spike of a needle ran through it like a plow it filled in the low spots of the ridges and it worked for a while. Uh, yeah, it did make a major mess