I have a decent collection of Springsteen vinyl, so that seemed like a good place to start, because, duh, Springsteen:
But, not even the Boss put out enough records to cover the wall and staircase, so, when I was out running my monthly delivery route of the little newspaper I so haughtily refer to as my publishing empire, I decided to hit the thrift shops and see if I could find any eclectic inexpensive vintage gold for my decorating scheme.
Okay, I should never be allowed in a thrift shop with a camera. I just really shouldn't.
Because, stuff like this happens:
|I'm sure quite a few of those voices were inside his head.|
|Happy little children, out in the corn . . .|
|I think I met that middle guy on the bus not enough years ago.|
|Kicking it old school.|