We strolled along, holding hands, talking about the house we were in the process of buying, feeling bad for those who were still running. By this time they'd been at it for 5 1/2 hours. You have to admire their persistence.
As we entered the Strip District, Denise spotted a unique glass pitcher in the window of Zerrer's Antiques (their store is 'stuffed with items to suit any budget'). It was irregularly shaped and would look good in our new kitchen. We were welcomed in by John Zerrer who pointed out his friend's artwork; the place was strewn with his hard to miss paintings. We wandered a bit oohing and aahing at items that caught each other's eye.
In the back of the store we spotted a Victor Victrola phonograph (or more accurately, talking machine). I'd been reading lately Randall Stross' page turner biography of Thomas Edison, The Wizard of Menlo Park and was jazzed to see this machine. While Edison is credited with the invention of the phonograph, others pioneered its use for home entertainment and produced machines that looked more like pieces of furniture than, well machines, greatly aiding their popularization.
John wasn't positive, but I'm pretty sure it was a VV-110 from 1921 like the one in this picture.
Maybe John was excited by the prospect of a sale on this day that his business was greatly hampered by road closings and such. Or, maybe he is really into Victrolas. Or maybe he's just very much a people person. Whatever, on seeing our interest he rushed over to demonstrate his prize and offer us a deal - a jaw dropping deal I've learned since. Whatever year it was made, the Victrola is at least 85 years old, and it still works. Joyfully, John opened the lid and the top doors that allow the machine to emit its highest quality sound. All the time, he's talking about how children in his store are always drawn to Victrolas and typewriters and such. He pulled a record from a bottom shelf, carefully placed it on the turntable, enthusiastically turned the crank and dropped the needle.
A wonderful crackle and the voice of some 1920's diva filled our ears like a delicious nostalgic sauce. Zerrer named the singer and song, but, unfortunately I am incapable of paying attention to more than one thing at a time and right then the machine took center stage.
We debated purchasing the Victrola for a few minutes and took one of John's cards just in case. It would make a completely impractical but tons of fun conversation piece in our new/old house. I'm sure one very much like it lived there at one time enthralling guests with its newness rather than being a fascinating relic of a far gone day. In the end we decided it looked great right where it was and bounced back out onto Penn Ave heading to the ball game.
I read recently that relationships are more likely to last, and be 'happy' when couples do 'exciting' things together. Dinner dates are nice. Skydiving is better. That kind of thing. I'm not sure we're ready for skydiving just yet. But discovering dusty old Victrolas in good working condition hiding in the back of crowded, friendly antique stores while walking to the ball game rather than riding the bus counts, I think.
No comments:
Post a Comment