I remember dating a young woman many years ago that kept her LP's loose, outside of their inner sleeves and jackets. Her stereo rack was constructed of six concrete blocks standing on end and 2" X 12" boards about six feet long stack three shelves high. Her sound system was a Panasonic receiver, two small bookshelf speakers, and a cheap automatic Panasonic turntable. She had a dozen or more LP's stacked against each other on the carpet leaning against the lowest concrete block. She asked if I'd like to hear some music and picked up the stack of records and started shuffling through them like a deck of cards, tossing the ones she wasn't interested in on the carpet and on top of each other.. I was shocked but kept silent. When she finally arrived at an LP she wanted to hear, she placed it on her automatic turntable and when the tone arm hit the record it sounded like we were listening to sandpaper, no, dirty used sandpaper. Yes, I could hear the music in there somewhere but the noise, pops, ticks, and elevated background racket was horrendous. She was snapping her fingers and bobbing hear head to the beat and seemed to be enjoying it. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. Since this was my first visit to her home with hopes of more than just some music and talk, I ignored the travesty of her record handling habits. What's a man to do under those circumstances? The sight of those records out of their jackets and sleeves on the floor leaning against a concrete block left a permanent imprinted picture in my brain. I remember that evening like it was yesterday and fortunately the torture of my hearing paid dividends.
Like the video above showed, for this young woman it was about the music. The rest of it just didn't seem to bother her at all.
