Reading the news today, it was grim as usual. There are however still signs that our minds are alive, that poetry and music are alive too. People in Saginaw are still painting the lyrics of Paul Simon’s “America” on abandoned buildings in their town. It’s little acts of ideological grace in the face of another dying Great Lakes town that make me happy.
A two-story warehouse housing nearly 3 million pieces of vinyl, this St. Petersburg monster is well named. (There’s also a CD/DVD shop across the street.) Stories abound of fanatical collectors who plan vacations around all-day (or longer) excursions into its LP and 45 catacombs. And they find good stuff there consistently, in all kinds of categories, from classical to blues, and rock to comedy.
Reporting of incident where this man fucking forcibly ran into @bdoulaoblongata with his walker while saying he is Darren Wilson. Protestors were protesting this location because owner stopped allowing black patrons to enter, only white patrons and pulled a gun out on protestors.
Video clips of him allowing white patrons only and locking door to come.