Lifelong treasures seldom unveil themselves without fervent mining. This seemingly innocent moment marks the newest, documented genesis of my uncontrollable record obsession. Captured some 32 years ago, an astute observer may assume my DJ skills would have matured with age… unfortunately, I peaked at the age of two, and the extent of my record spinning abilities is limited to the dropping and lifting of the tone arm, aka the raising and lowering of a mechanical lever. I may not have been able to tie my own shoes, adequately feed myself, or speak without a lisp, but I damn well knew a good groove when I heard one.