It’s been a while since I last made it out to a record show.
Since my stroke, getting around just hasn’t been easy—my mobility’s limited, my muscles aren’t what they used to be, and any improvement in my mental clarity seems to have stalled.
Still, the itch to flip through crates never really goes away. That’s why, for the first time in three years, I held my breath, grabbed my cane, and made the trek to the very plainly named Vinyl Record Show of Oklahoma City at the Hilton Garden Inn & Edmond Conference Center.
What can I say? Wasting away is a slow, painful process—but it’s easier with a great soundtrack.
With my $15 admission ticket, I was given a cup of ice water, a neon green wristband, and access to all the vinyl I could want to buy that day.
Unlike other record fairs around OKC, which can be a jumbled mess, the Vinyl Record Show was pretty orderly with music fans of all kinds pursuing records, tapes, and other music memorabilia.
No shoving, no bad attitudes, no guff…actually, the show was honestly refreshing.
As I started my exciting (to me, at least) journey to the world of dollar-bin items, expensive rare pressings, and everything in-between, I decided that I had better set some ground rules, starting with a stringent self-imposed $100 budget.
Also, sorry, no Beatles bootlegs, Beatles promos, or Beatles rare items, because that’s where all my money would have gone in the past and I needed to branch out, at least for this trip.
And, finally, I decided that I could only purchase—and this was my main imperative—twelve-inch singles, because even though they are typically inexpensive, they are very hard to find, especially in the reselling climate of Oklahoma.
Apparently, my was plan was working well because at my first stop, near the back wall, I found a small box of maxi-singles, starting with the Fat Boys’ 1988 movie-tie-in “Are You Ready for Freddy,” Freddy being the much-loved child molester Freddy Krueger.
Although there were some great platters as I swept through the many stacks of wax, I found myself smack dab in the middle of a dealer’s room with an unexpected treasure trove of early-to-mid 90s singles and they were priced to move!
I didn’t know the name of the table or the dealer’s name, but their records were priced between $2 to $10, but the selection was absolutely priceless.
They had all the bouncy hip-hop I grew up with, including MC Hammer’s “Can’t Touch This,” Vanilla Ice’s “Ice Ice Baby,” and the Digital Underground’s “The Humpy Dance,” as well as other tracks like Prince’s “Raspberry Beret” and the Divinyl’s “I Touch Myself.”
I was in pure heaven. But, as I was heading to pay the good man, I noticed a picture disc of a big baseball.
I couldn’t believe it, but among the rap, hip-hop and club tracks, John Fogerty’s 1985 song “Centerfield,” a 2018 picture disc single backed with “Rock and Roll Girls” that I wasn’t aware of at all, mostly because of my health issues but…
You bet I paid $10 for that.
After taking a break outside in the lobby with more of the (free with the price of admission!) thirst-quenching water, I headed to the other side of the showroom.
The maxi-single Gods were still smiling on me because, almost immediately, I got twelve-inchers of the Fun Boy with Bananarama’s “It Ain’t What You Do” and the Psychedelic Furs’ “Heartbreak Beat”…and I still had $30 dollars left.
From the few remaining dollars, I was going to come back for a couple of tracks I had been eyeing, but here was my dilemma…as I was going back to his table, I looked at one last one dealer.
This guy had the typical stuff you would find at shows like this, stuff like beaten down copies of Iron Butterfly, Kenny Rogers, or Herb Alpert and the Tijana Brass…until I came across a pristine copy of French chanteuse Serge Gainsbourg and his new-wave fever dream Love on the Beat.
Shit…do I break my singles-only streak and purchase it or do I return to the previous table and buy the records he was holding for me because I am a man of my word?
I knew what I had to do.
I bought the French import, surmising that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I forked over my remaining thirty bucks and went on my somewhat devious way, holding my head in shame as I walked by the ghosted table.
I don’t think he saw me as I made a swift exit to the parking lot.
Sitting in my car and looking at my newly-bought music, I was happy with my purchases. The Vinyl Record Show of Oklahoma City was a success, at least in my eyes as I got some “new” old music to groove to and, even better, a bucket-list record was crossed off.
As I got home, my wife asked me, “Did you make any new friends at the record show?”
No, sadly, I didn’t…but at least I got a used copy of “Are You Ready for Freddy”. And that’s almost the same thing, right? Right?
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
