Used Vinyl: Ohio and Indiana Edition

MITHRIDATES
Count among the many joys of vinyl its ability to make a roundtrip drive from Chitown to Columbus, OH remotely bearable. I didn't have time to stop at every independent record store on the way, but did manage to stop by two gems.
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First stop: Luna Records, Indianapolis
Luna feels more like one of those soul-destroying Virgin "Records" stores than your average vinyl shop, but only because it's clean and well-lit. I suppose a "good-for-them" is in order for not feeling the need to dingy up the place just to look authentic, but then again, let's face it, some of us like record stores because we can at least pretend the faux-authenticity is genuine.

But that's the only strike against the place. Used records are rotated in to the shelves and the rest are in egg crates below the CD racks (we forgive you). They don't have a grading system, but they let me play a few seemingly underpriced Dylan and Stones gems to make sure they played through OK (they did!). Vintage Hot Rocks; John Wesley Harding; Blue Hawaii; Last of the Mohicans; Meaty, Beaty, Big, and Bouncy. All in good enough condition. All relatively cheap.

And OK, it's not the most original, but Frank Horrigan likes it (and he saved the President!) so I had to pick up a re-released Miles Davis' (my high school jazz instructor thinks Bill Evans actually wrote most of it) Kind of Blue. Miles, what would you do if you had an hour to live? If somebody told me I only had an hour to live, I'd spend it choking a white man. I'd do it nice and slow. Oh, uh, that's nice Miles. Uh, how about you just play something for us . . .

Oh, and unlike what some used record store hipsters are wont to do, the cashier actually told me "those are all great records." I'm pretty sure it's against German speech laws to call The Sound of Musik by Falco a great record. Craptastic maybe. But great? Please.

Second stop: Used Kids, Columbus

Situated near the home of the universally acknowledged "most obnoxious fans in the midwest", Used Kids is what you'd expect from an establishment specializing in "previously enjoyed" LPs. Up the dingy staircase, plastered with postings, dimly lit. Perfect. The nephews came along for the trip and were given instructions to go out and find anything good.

The younger one came back with Deep Purple, Meet the Beatles ($1), and Appetite for Destruction. All keepers. Well done, young Jedi. "This kind of place makes me want to get a record player."

The elder came back with the orignial Run DMC ($3). At least the rapophile knows who started it all. "I can see why people spend lots of time in record stores," he said. There's hope for the next generation, after all . . .

Fifty bucks for Layla, Rubber Soul and Rock n' Roll Music Vols. I and II; Thirty-three bucks for the other twenty-one records. That's right. This place has the best dollar record section on the planet.

There's still apparently a little bit of originality left out there among the manufactured villages and chain stores . . .