Friday, September 23, 2005

Quick Notes

* I just went back and read yesterday's post regarding the Hardcore Benefit Show. Toward the end of the post, I did a little role playing where a fictitious hardcore guy is trying to impress his date when she comes across a photo at his apartment of him holding a Floorpunch 7-inch on gold, flanked by the dudes in Shark Attack. In the role play, I had hardcore guy downplay his vinyl score by recalling that he threw a "couple of hundred dollars at some crappy Floorpunch on gold" in order to win a silent auction to help a sick little girl.

In the event that there is anybody who read that the wrong way, I was using a heavy dose of sarcasm that may not have translated to text very well. I feel that I need to say this because, well, it's hardcore and people blow all kinds of things out of proportion. My band used to play with Floorpunch quite often. I like and respect everybody in the band, and I'd hate for them to get the wrong idea.

So, in short, I was attempting to make hardcore guy sound like he bought a Flagman record for a couple hundred dollars to help someone in need, rather than scoring THE record of the 90's that has collectors slipping and sliding in puddles of their own drool.

* Speaking of the Floorpunch 7-inch on gold, I was one of the original holders of that record. Record number 65/88 It was hand-delivered to me by Brett Beach himself at a VFW hall in Elksboro NJ. Never much of a collector, 65/88 was by far the most valuable record I have ever had in a collection.

And then I moved to the DC area in October of 2000, with basically a bag of groceries, the clothes on my back, and my record collection. I moved into a modest Falls Church apartment that always smelled of the neighbor's Indian cooking with a wily rascal named Dave Byrd, who was an avid record collector.

After about a week, I got tired of sleeping on the floor of my bedroom, and decided that the girl I was dating (I met someone my first night out in Adam's Morgan with Byrd, a month before I even moved to DC) probably wouldn't be too impressed with my bedroom set-up. I didn't have any money, so I decided to start selling off the only asset I had with me, which was my record collection.

Byrd skimmed through the records and pulled out the Floorpunch on gold. He didn't say anything. He just looked at me, holding up the 7-inch with wide eyes. His expression told me everything I needed to know about the question on his mind: "how much?" His lips didn't move, but I could somehow hear his voice in my mind, giggling like a little girl that stumbled across a hidden Tickle Me Elmo doll long after the toy store had sold out of them.

"Dude, no way" was my initial reply. He was disappointed , but he went through the rest of my collection, picked out some records he wanted, and the yield was somewhere close to $200, which wasn't anywhere near the amount I needed to buy the bed I had ear-marked in the IKEA catalog.

At that point, I was pretty burnt on hardcore. ROTP was coming to an end. I wasn't interested in many new bands. Bars were a higher priority than shows. So, I thought about it for a few minutes, and then offered the Floorpunch on gold to Byrd for $120. I pretty much saw myself getting out of hardcore at that time, so I figured there was no point hanging onto it. After some haggling, the price came down to $100, and Byrd had his prize. A few months later, I was kicking myself.

To add to the indignity, the bed I ended up buying had to be one of the most uncomfortable, back-breaking beds I have ever had the misfortune to sleep on. The thing was cursed. I had a roommate who's dog loved to take a dump under it. I had a German au pair accidentally pee on me during sex in that bed. AND, it did about $200 in damage to the hard wood floors in my bedroom, which came out of my security deposit when I moved out of the place.

I was recently IM'ing with a BBHC reader, Alex, who asked me if it was true that Byrd purchased my copy of the Floorpunch on gold for five dollars. I was upset to say the least. The thought that ANYBODY could think I would ever be so foolish, even one person, made me want to go to the 14th Street bridge and leap into the Potomac. Let the record show that I sold the prize to Byrd for $100 because he was a friend, fully aware it would fetch more on eBay.

I like to think Byrd gave me $100 just to hold MY (myyyyyyy Precioussssss...) Floorpunch on gold in his fire box, but if you ask him, I'm pretty sure he'll tell you differently.

*The winner of the AIM contest is Brett Valegro. Congratulations! I'll put your ROTP "When It Rains, It Pours" LP in the mail on Monday.

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