Vinyl, cardboard and paper

My 1993 copy of John Coltrane's Blue Train...  It will be almost twenty years old this summer.  That's older than either of my children, longer than either of my marriages (or at least so far on the second!), and longer than any of the various jobs I've held.

It's longer in fact, than my entire working career since graduation, longer than both of my marriages combined and longer than any of the current relationships I enjoy with people I consider to be my very best friends.

It's funny how a simple thing -- vinyl, cardboard, paper -- can take on so much meaning.

I'm trying to think of another possession that I've held in greater esteem during the last twenty years, and I can't think of a single one. 

I've probably got some baseball cards in the attic that are older, and yes, I've owned Stephen King books for more than twenty years, reading and periodically, re-reading them.  Many of my Black Flag and Fugazi cds date back that far, but I can't think of any other single item I possess that has made me happier than this small circle of vinyl, wrapped in its thin square of cardboard.