WEST ISLAND VILLAGES COULD USE MORE FUN-TO-RUMMAGE SHOPS
Our pursuit of convenience has displaced the pleasure of treasure hunting
One occasional episode that simultaneously amuses, intrigues and worries my wife is when I notice something in the house and ask, “Hey, when did we get that?” Usually it’s something that I have walked past all too often in a typical male haze.
Her primary concern is that I am getting doddering in my gilding age. (What does that mean exactly when your neck has more folds than an un-ironed shirt?) I admit that I also stoke the fire by sometimes with a straight face saying something like, “When did we get a cat?” So, the larger the object, the more scary it is that I don’t notice it under my schnozzle.
Anyway, this week I noticed a Thomas Edison phonograph with its long brass funnel projecting out of the corner of our living room. I asked my wife where the piece came from. She shook her head and replied, “We bought it in a Notre-Dame antique shop over 30 years ago. I just pulled it out of storage.”
After being somewhat relieved to know that it wasn’t something I had sat next to for 30 years, I looked closer. It has these neatly grooved tubes called Edison gold moulded records (copyright 1904). Well, this got me thinking about my era’s good old vinyl records.
In my man-cave (such an ugly word), I have a wall dedicated to long-playing albums that I have framed: original soundtracks like Sean Connery’s James Bond movies; Goldfinger, Thunderball and Dr. No, to name a few. (Man crush is an even uglier word.) I bought them decades ago at Cheap Thrills for 50 cents apiece. The records remind me of how much I used to enjoy rummaging through the downtown stores that lined Notre-Dame and St.Antoine (formerly called Craig) streets. Those places are mostly all gone now.
It’s a shame that our modern pursuit of convenience and one-stop shopping at megamalls, Costcos and Dollaramas has displaced the joy of treasure hunting in small shops. When I was a kid living downtown off St. Lawrence Blvd. with its eclectic nooks, I looked forward to Saturday morning shopping trips with my parents. It was very bohemian in nature. Today, a kid touring Maxi’s is a non-starter.
So, I just read recently where Sunrise Records chain has bought up 70 spots vacated by (DVD-glutted) HMV stores. Sunrise is rolling the dice on a boom in both old and new vinyl records.
In fact, Forbes magazine reported that 2015 saw a 32 per cent increase in new vinyl sales. There is sunlight breaking through the (digital) cloud. Touchy-feely LPs are making a vengeful comeback over cold compact discs.
People of all ages are appreciating that records, unlike DVDs, have a certain magic. It’s not only what the audiophiles articulate about vinyl’s superior sound. It’s the original artwork. LPs cover (pun intended) two genres: music and contemporary art. The really cool ones are wall-hangers. Add to that the timeless intimacy of nostalgia. Most people I know can date benchmarks in their youth by the songs played at the time. Visual art accentuates that tweak.
The online Vinyl Tourist site lists a number of great used and new LP stores flourishing downtown.
So, message to West Island villages: Why not encourage more quaint mom-and-pop-style shops? Why not a used LP shop?
How nice of a browsers’ (commercial) draw would it be if West Island prefects encouraged blocks-worth of small retailers that are fanciful. Ms. and Mr. Planner, let’s try going back to the future. This includes re-thinking regular necessities shops. (I’m thinking, maybe, music and soda fountains in drug stores?)