Ray Conniff and the joys of Hi-Fi

The life of a utility worker can be a rough row to hoe, let me tell you: When you're not doing some sort of dreary mathematical calculation, you are going into someone's basement, or out in their yard, or listening to them tell you about the time that water heater nearly killed Aunt Fern. So there's no question that we need to relax from time to time, and one can only hold so much alcohol. That's why I was thrilled to discover Ray Conniff.

Well, ok - so I actually didn't "discover" him. Anyone over forty is familiar with his type of music: Peppy and upbeat and blessedly non-descript. Usually covers of broadway or pop songs. It bleated at you from the dentist's office. It lulled you in elevators. They played it in supermarkets. It was as familiar a part of the landscape as ashtrays, payphones and disapproving old women with plastic rain bonnets and huge purses.

But the world has changed - as if I had to tell YOU. Nowadays, you can't find either an ashtray or a payphone to save your life, the disapproving old women are wearing fanny packs and baseball caps, and most stores - or at least the lowbrow stores that down market people like me end up in - play an odious mix of R&B and "new" country (which is just like old country but worse. It's as if a focus group of Wal-Mart shoppers got together to tell a committee of junior high band directors what they wanted in the way of music)

It's the same way everywhere. Except at Chez Vel-DuRay of course, where it's always the eve of the Kennedy Assassination, and Ray is frequently on the Hi-Fi. But we've recently kicked it up a notch and invested in a USB turntable. This allows us to transfer our wonderful vinyl into easier-to-handle mp3's (or whatever the kids are calling them these days) and take them on the road with us. Thus, I can sit on the bus, blissfully unaware of the chaos, mayhem and vulgar cellphone calls going on all around me, while listening to "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" or "Love is a Many Splendored Thing".

Because after all, we all need our coping mechanisms, don't we?