Wednesday, June 10, 2009

How I Built my Classical Record Collection

Before CD's and other new-fangled musical media, there were long-playing record albums. I had a very large collection of classical records, and the collection did not cost me a cent. How did you do that, you might ask. I'll tell you.

There was a very talented family living near us in Massachusetts. Their main interest was in classical music and some of them played in symphony orchestras in the Boston area. At the time of this story, they were living in a massive Victorian mansion with a wide wrap-around porch. They moved there suddenly when creditors got too close to them at their old address.

(In the family were an uncle A, an aunt B, two nephews C and D, and one niece E, all very cultured, well-educated people of Portuguese descent.)

At the new house, they had one large front room that they reserved for music. In that room were only two things: a beautiful black grand piano (that they all played wonderfully well) and a monstrous record player.

One day at their new house they decided to get some classical record albums to play on the record player. A joined a classical record club that offered 10 free albums as an inducement to join. A then was eligible to nominate B to be a member. A got another 10 free albums when B joined, and B got his free 10 albums. B then nominated C.... etc etc. After a while they all were members and had started to amass a pretty sizable record collection without paying a cent, except for postage.... I don't think at the time that one had to pay for shipping... but that wouldn't have mattered because they would not have paid anyway.

After the family used up all normal possibilities for free albums they decided to try a clever gimmic. Some people of Portuguese descent have a couple of last names that they can use legally. For this story I will say that their usual last name was Lopes, and they sometimes used Freitas as another last name. So, once the family had used up all the possibilities for Lopes, they did the same thing for Freitas.

Before the family could receive more than the first few sets of records, they disappeared without a trace. Apparently, their creditors found out about their new home and were closing in on them. Even the grand piano and record player were gone from the front room.

My mother-in-law was good friends of the family and went to visit them a day or two after they disappeared and found on the front porch, stacks of classical record albums. She talked to the mailman and was told "Help yourself, they are non-returnable."

My mother-in-law was more of a Country Music fan than a classical fan but she knew of my love for the classics, so, she called me up and asked if I would help get all those albums off the porch. I thought she meant maybe two or three albums... it was more like 50. And the next day there were more albums.. and the next day... and the next day... Contact with the record company was unsuccessful, so I helped myself to a marvelous collection. Lots of duplicates were distributed around town.

You have to know, at this time, the late 1950's the music scene was still "different" in New England from that in other parts of the Country. For instance, when a teen-ager drove by with his car radio blasting away, the piece playing might be Beethoven's Fifth and not an Elvis song. So, it was not hard to get rid of the classical duplicates.

I still have a lot of those albums today and nobody has ever heard again of the family that I mentioned.

3 comments:

Chris said...

This is a great story, pop. I remember trying the same thing when I was in high school - only I had to buy three more records at normal club prices within three years about 12 times over, so it didn't work out as well as I'd originally hoped. I guess I wasn't as clever as I'd thought.

Joe Vaughan said...

Thanks, Chris. These same people had given your mother and I a marvelous back-lit painting for our wedding. We had seen it for sale at a furniture store and knew that it was an extremely expensive item. However, just as we were about to hang the picture, we learned that the man who lived in the next apartment owned that same furniture store. We were afraid that some day he might come to visit us and see the painting and confiscate it because that family had never paid for it. (They were extreme "deadbeats". But, they were very interesting people. I think you met some of them when you were younger and we were vacationing in Westport, Massachusetts.)

Joe Vaughan said...

O.K., o.k., I know... I should have said: "...your mother and me..."