One way to buy record collections is by looking on craigslist for people selling their collections along with other stuff they never use anymore. This usually amounts to someone who wants a dollar each or to sell the whole mess for a single price. My approach is to make sure it’s somewhere around 50 cents to a dollar a record, that they’re in decent condition and that there are minimal Broadway soundtrack or classical records. As long as it’s decent condition rock or jazz you can usually turn it around on ebay and make money on volume. And if you’re lucky you can get some good stuff that brings a bit more. I email the lister, ask a few questions and, assuming it looks good, set up a time and place to make the drop. I mean deal. I mean exchange.
Recently, I looked through some ads and came across and interesting one. What happened is a strange incidence of worlds colliding. The ad looked like this :
“100 records for sale – Beatles, Kinks, more - $1 each”
I emailed the poster and went about my business. I didn’t get a response so I figured someone else had made off with the stuff. Beatles records don’t last long. I was surprised to hear back from the guy about a week later, saying he had “just gotten to check his email” and to call him if I was still interested. I called him right away. He told me the records were in great shape and that he could meet that night. I got the address and made the drive to his house around 8PM.
No matter the condition of the home, I usually have a variation of the same thought as I walk into a stranger’s house with some cash to buy their records. I ponder what it’s going to be like for the police when they are trying to find my body or what’s left of it. They will see the email thread in my recent messages. The email address on the other end will be closed and will have been last accessed from some Apple store in a mall where thousands of people use the computers. The address will turn out to be the home of someone who was out of town when this whole thing went down. There will be no clues to the identity of the person who lured me to this home. This hasn’t happened yet. I suppose I won’t be able to let you know when it does either.
Anyway, the house was a nice, well-kept home on a residential street. There was a man standing in the front yard talking on a cell phone. He was about 40, dressed in slacks and a white shirt. I noticed that he appeared to be an Orthodox Jew. He looked at me and waved me to the house. Without saying a word to me, he led me into a mostly dark house and up the steps. We pointed in the direction of some records on the floor and walked into the next room. As I squatted down to pick through the records I looked around the room and thought for a moment that the decorating taste seemed a bit dated for someone his age. No matter – I forgot this as I started to look at the records. Some good stuff. Nothing great but good condition first pressings of the first two Elvis LPs, several nice condition later pressing Beatles LPs and some other common classic rock mixed in with some show tunes and junk. I have to admit I was a bit surprised to find rock and roll records in the home of an Orthodox Jew. I assumed their faith would have led them away from this kind of music. I only paid this a moment’s thought until I came across this :
Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables : the first LP from the Dead Kennedys. The record that single-handedly altered my musical taste and opened the door to another world. An early 80’s issue of Star Hits magazine included a quote from a pop star explaining that he didn’t understand why some people feel you “need to be covered in vomit” to play music and cited the Dead Kennedys as an example. I saved my allowance, bought a copy of this record and my life was literally changed overnight. But now the question loomed even larger : What is this doing in the home of an Orthodox Jew? More punk records followed – Cockney Rejects, GBH, Devo, Circle Jerks, Gang of Four.
As this was being uncovered in one room, I became aware of the man’s ongoing phone conversation. He was talking loudly now, not seeming to notice or care that I was within earshot. He was talking to a woman, explaining that he had no reason to live. He had lost his career, he was unable to see his children, he was massively in debt – “and everything else”. He explained that the “witch” had tricked him and that he was ruined because of it. I started to feel some sympathy. Then he said the magic three letters : “T-R-O”. Anyone who has been through a particularly nasty dissolution knows these letters. Temporary Restraining Order. She had tricked him into violating one and his life had spiraled downhill ever since. I felt sorry for him now. He went on for a bit longer while I sorted out the records I wanted.
He hung up and came into the room. It was very awkward as we both knew I had heard every word of his conversation. I clumsily said something like “I couldn’t help to overhear your conversation – sorry to hear that’s going on”. I let him know I had some firsthand experience on a similar situation and he looked relieved. He sat down and immediately opened up to me. He explained that when he and his wife (the “witch”) were getting divorced she filed a temporary restraining order against him because she wanted the house to herself even though he was living in the basement and didn’t cross paths with her. The TRO was granted (they have to be), he moved to a friend’s home and a deal was worked out so he could have visitation with his children from Friday to Sunday. Here’s where it gets interesting. “The witch – she, she put this thing in the visitation order that said I couldn’t approach the house on foot. And Friday is the Sabbath so, you know, I can’t drive. That witch.” So the guy decides to walk to what he thought was 500 feet from the house and wait for his kids. Turns out he misjudged the distance and the police showed up and threw him in jail for a couple days for violation of a restraining order. Wow.
I thought this was pretty awful. What a witch. But we’re just getting started with this one. He tells me that since he violated the TRO it became a full-on RO. Nothing temporary about it. Then he blurts out : “ I just got out of jail THIS MORNING.” Now my mind is racing in different directions. With one thought I deduce that the reason he had “just gotten to check his email” is because they don’t have an internet connection in the slam. With another thought I fleetingly think this could be the day I don’t make it out of the stranger’s house alive. I foolishly assume that this restraining order violation is the reason he was in jail earlier today. Not so fast. He says he was in jail today on “some child support thing”. Then he clarifies, “I owe $2,500 but they think I owe $25,000”. I mumble something about such a huge discrepancy being hard to understand and he clarifies for me :
“Well I actually do owe $25,000 but I don’t have to pay it yet. If you don’t have any means of income you can get a payment extension. And I was in PRISON for EIGHT MONTHS in the Tombs in Chinatown so I couldn’t work.”
Oh. Now I understand. Thanks for helping un-confuse me.
He continues. “I got behind in child support because of my legal bills. So I committed a crime to try to make ends meet.” Oh please tell me what crime. “I started dealing ecstasy.”
This is as good a time as any to remind you about something : Orthodox Jew.
He then explains that he’s a lawyer. “Was a lawyer”, he clarifies. Felony conviction = automatic disbarment. He can’t work in the only field he has ever known. He used to work at *******, one of the highest end law firms in New York City. He explains that if anyone should be disbarred it’s the guy who runs the place, since he’s got deep ties to the mob. He says he only sold to people at his office (who says lawyers are no fun?) until one of them set him up with a “friend”. The friend turned out to be the heat, the fuzz, the law as they say. Oops.
When charges were filed he found out that, because of the witch and her restraining orders, he wouldn’t get a suspended sentence and would serve prison time. He cut a plea deal that specified he serve his time in the Chinatown prison rather than one upstate. He made it very clear that he was an experienced lawyer who had had lots of clients. It was very important to him that he not be sent to ANY of the prisons upstate. Certain things happen there that do not happen in Chinatown. He said he is very happy he did not go upstate. Sensing that we were now pretty close friends, I asked “How was it?” He said it was not bad. The food wasn’t too bad either. I asked him what he did and if he did a lot of reading since this is always what I envision myself doing when I eventually go to prison. “I did a lot of reading,” he said. “Tons of reading.” Then he went on to say he was eligible for parole after three months but decided to stay for the full term. I had to ask why. He said that, since he was disbarred and didn’t have a plan for how to make money when he got out, he would stay in until he had a plan. It didn’t seem like he was any closer to having that plan in place since I’m currently his only means of income.
This went on for a while. He received a few phone calls from someone who I could hear moving around in the living room downstairs. By this point the whole night was so bizarre I didn’t think twice and asked him if he wanted to talk softer so the person downstairs wouldn’t hear. He was very frank, “That’s my mom – she’s deaf so we can say whatever we want.”
Eventually we got to the records. He pulled out the Gang of Four record (Entertainment! mind you) and said “This band was incredible. This is their best record. I saw them at Irving Plaza.” He got to the Circle Jerks record. “I saw these guys in Stamford.” Turns out he had seen a lot of the local punk bands in the 80s. Dead Kennedys. “My favorite hardcore band. I know I look like an Orthodox Jew. I mean, I am an Orthodox Jew. But this stuff is awesome to anyone.”
$40 later and I made it out alive. I wished him luck. He needs it.
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