My friend Jimmy is the superintendent of a small apartment building where a DJ used to live. (Not a WFMU DJ, but a club DJ). Then the DJ moved out, but he kept paying rent on one room that he used for storage. After a while he quit paying rent on the storage room. The landlord waited for a bit, then told Jimmy to break the lock and throw out whatever was in there. Jimmy finally got the door opened and found hundreds and hundreds of record albums, all stacked up in milk crates. So he set to work hauling the crates full of records down to the street, all by himself--up and down the stairs, crate after crate. It took a long time, but he finally got all the records stacked up out at the curb in a long row a little higher than Jimmy is tall. He went back upstairs to secure the door to the DJ's former storage room, and he swears he couldn't have been up there more than 15 minutes or so. But when he got back down —all the milk crates were gone! The records, however, were still there, tossed all over the street in a huge mess. Somebody had snagged the crates, but not the contents. So Jimmy had to push all the hundreds and hundreds of records up out of the street and off the sidewalk, so they'd be out of the way until the sanitation truck came to take them away with the garbage.
Thanks for reading my blog post this week, and may God bless.