It was a bit of a shock ....
The guy (Brian) that owned a small record store in town where I would occasionally drop in, well yesterday I learned of his sudden passing.
He was a bit eccentric. Coming and going on what I always assumed was his motorcycle parked next to the entrance. His shop was overcrowded with music. In every nook and cranny and in every aisle and corner. I think he reached a point where he stopped organizing recently acquired merchandise. It was an adventure just getting past the front door. Boxes everywhere. New arrivals stacked on top of older inventory. The place was often kept dark and cold. I assume to keep his overhead down. He must have noticed my squinting because he would turn some lights on after a few minutes inside.
He was friendly enough to me. I used to complain that he wouldn't leave me alone to browse ..... reminding me every few minutes that he could order practically anything for me or that he had a few boxes that he'd be bringing in with jazz I might like, or of his return policy .... "If you get this home and just don't like it, bring it back and I'll give you a full credit towards something else." He would ask me what I do for a living and never remember my responses from the previous visit.
Once while browsing, he told me that he had to lock up and take some online purchases to the post office before they closed and that he'd be back in fifteen minutes ..... but that I could stay while he was gone and look around.
I'd always get a little anxious when thinking of stopping by, mostly because it was just difficult to navigate around all the clutter so I would visit only a few times a year. But occasionally I'd find what I considered gems in there, usually tucked away in a cardboard box in the aisle or plastic tub under the racks or under a stack of records. They were rarely priced, so I'd wait seemingly 10-15 minutes for each selection taken forward, while he consulted the internet (the dreaded Discogs I assume) and giving me time to bounce it around and decide in my thoughts what I was willing to pay ..... and he'd always quote a lower price than what I was guessing or expecting.
It was mostly him running the place. He once had a younger kid working with him. Maybe a young end of 20-something. The kid was bright and remembered things. I bought a Chick Corea record once and returned a month or two later and the kid asked me how I liked the Chick Corea record. Most people might remember a previous day customer purchase but not an obscure purchase from two months earlier. by an old dude buying weird old dude music. That kid was there for a few months and gone.
Other than that, it was Brian, seven days a week. He told me several months ago that it was his goal to pay off his house in the next year or two. He inferred that the shop had become a burden ..... or perhaps the burden was in the number of hours and days he was spending there. I don't know what his plan was after he paid off his house. Sadly, he never will realize it.
Or maybe he did? I don't know the rest of his story. Hopefully so.
Pictured are a couple of the 'gems' (in my mind) that I found in his shop over the years.
There are currently a couple cards taped to the entrance, each with heartfelt, beautiful messages to a friend lost. Looking inside, the shop appears to be untouched, as he left it after closing .... Like he'll be returning in the morning. I couldn't help but notice his empty chair .... like maybe he had stepped into the back room to retrieve another box of records or compact discs, or to turn on some lights.
Rest in Peace, Brian. I wish we had gotten to know each other a little better.
