I had gone to my parents house late in the afternoon. I was pulling up to the driveway when both were getting out of their car. I question them like if I was the parent. I ask where they had been, how they be running the streets instead of being home? They had came from an estate sale down the street. They asked if I wanted to go? I mentioned if they would want to go again since they just left. They without hesitation got back in the car and drove back to the home. It was a house hidden down a hill. In all the years that my parents have lived in their home I had never been down this street. I walked in and the first thing that caught my eyes was a box of vinyl records. I was going through them when a lady approached me and asked if I liked records? I told her that I've always liked having one or two. Strange how they are coming back to life. She stepped away for a few seconds came back and said if I give her a few minutes there was a box of old ones in the shed. She had called her son to see where they had remembered they saw them in the home. As I looked through the house I could tell it had belong to a man, no sign of woman belongings. He was a military man. He had his military gear through out the home. I was standing in the living room with a brown couch with yellow carpet. If you went to the back yard it was like stepping into a forest. You couldn't see where the backyard ended. Trees and bushes filled the back of the house. I could picture an old man enjoying coffee early mornings just seeing nature come to life as the sun came up. A breath of fresh air. They found the container of old records and brought it in the the living room and asked me to go through them to see which ones might catch my eye. He had small ones in a tin box. The kind of tin box used to carry tools in. I went through them but didn't recognize any of the names. Old sheets of music that if you touched them the ink would be erased. It would become lost music. I realized not only was he a military man but he loved to square dance. Most of the records in that box were of square dancing. I know he had a love once because his daughter was the one now selling his things. As I was about to leave I saw an instrument that looked like an old guitar. I'd never seen one like this before. It was made out of wood and the strings were metal like fork prongs that came up from the guitar. If played you would place it on your lap and fling the prongs towards you to play music. I asked how much it was? The guy married to the daughter told me it was a rare vintage instrument. I wanted it for that reason. Just something cool to have. I didn't buy it, I regret not getting it. A few months later I saw it in a documentary. It was being played in the film. A family in Asia was sitting in a circle on the floor and the daughter was playing the instrument. It made sense now how a man in the United States was probably stationed in the military over seas and had brought it home. Had I bought it when I had the chance it would have a different meaning to the instruments story. We tend to hold on to things that have meaning. Here was a man that really just enjoyed music. I'll call him the music man.
This was the day I came home with The Johnny Cash Show vinyl. It was the only thing I bought. A vinyl that will remind me of the music man I never had the opportunity to meet.
