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Do You Remember Your First?

Joon Young.  Scooby Young.  Young Drew.  These are just three of the aliases I used to subscribe to Columbia House Record club in the 80s and early 90s.  Do you remember Columbia House, sildenafil ampoule the direct-mail music subscription service that advertised 12 Cassettes/CDs For Just 1¢ in newspapers?  The ad included an envelope, a sheet of stamps in the image of album covers (mostly Top 40 and classic rock releases), and a card with 13 empty spaces on which the 12 desired album stamps are to be pasted plus a single penny taped at the top.  In return, all I had to do was buy two full-priced albums within the next year, which was the easy part.  The real challenge was having to respond – by mail, of course – to the monthly advertisement letter in time; failing to do so resulted in the automatic shipment of the Cassette/CD Of The Month.  So that’s six letters I had to mail with the Not Interested box checked on a monthly basis for about 2-3 years.  Why six?  Well, that’s because I also had three aliases for Columbia House’s competitor, BMG.  Oy.

Columbia House was purchased by BMG in the 90s, and earlier this year BMG finally sunk under the weight of its own anachronistic business model.  So to mourn/celebrate the demise of the music subscription service by mail, which, for me, had its last gasp during a drunken infomercial purchase over 10 years ago, here’s a song from the first batch of cassettes I received:

Lodi, Creedence Clearwater Revival (from Green River, 1969).
Joon Young.  Scooby Young.  Young Drew.  These are just three of the aliases I used to subscribe to Columbia House Record club in the 80s and early 90s.  Do you remember Columbia House, sildenafil ampoule the direct-mail music subscription service that advertised 12 Cassettes/CDs For Just 1¢ in newspapers?  The ad included an envelope, a sheet of stamps in the image of album covers (mostly Top 40 and classic rock releases), and a card with 13 empty spaces on which the 12 desired album stamps are to be pasted plus a single penny taped at the top.  In return, all I had to do was buy two full-priced albums within the next year, which was the easy part.  The real challenge was having to respond – by mail, of course – to the monthly advertisement letter in time; failing to do so resulted in the automatic shipment of the Cassette/CD Of The Month.  So that’s six letters I had to mail with the Not Interested box checked on a monthly basis for about 2-3 years.  Why six?  Well, that’s because I also had three aliases for Columbia House’s competitor, BMG.  Oy.

Columbia House was purchased by BMG in the 90s, and earlier this year BMG finally sunk under the weight of its own anachronistic business model.  So to mourn/celebrate the demise of the music subscription service by mail, which, for me, had its last gasp during a drunken infomercial purchase over 10 years ago, here’s a song from the first batch of cassettes I received:

Lodi, Creedence Clearwater Revival (from Green River, 1969).
Joon Young.  Scooby Young.  Young Drew.  These are just three of the aliases I used to subscribe to Columbia House Record club in the 80s and early 90s.  Do you remember Columbia House, buy viagra store the direct-mail music subscription service that advertised 12 Cassettes/CDs For Just 1¢ in newspapers?  The ad included an envelope, purchase a sheet of stamps in the image of album covers (mostly Top 40 and classic rock releases), and a card with 13 empty spaces on which the 12 desired album stamps are to be pasted plus a single penny taped at the top.  In return, all I had to do was buy two full-priced albums within the next year, which was the easy part.  The real challenge was having to respond – by mail, of course – to the monthly advertisement letter in time; failing to do so resulted in the automatic shipment of the Cassette/CD Of The Month.  So that’s six letters I had to mail with the Not Interested box checked on a monthly basis for about 2-3 years.  Why six?  Well, that’s because I also had three aliases for Columbia House’s competitor, BMG.  Oy.

Columbia House was purchased by BMG in the 90s, and earlier this year BMG finally sunk under the weight of its own anachronistic business model.  So to mourn/celebrate the demise of the music subscription service by mail, which, for me, had its last gasp during a drunken infomercial purchase over 10 years ago, here’s a song from the first batch of cassettes I received:

Lodi, Creedence Clearwater Revival (from Green River, 1969).
Joon Young.  Scooby Young.  Young Drew.  These are just three of the aliases I used to subscribe to Columbia House Record club in the 80s and early 90s.  Do you remember Columbia House, sildenafil ampoule the direct-mail music subscription service that advertised 12 Cassettes/CDs For Just 1¢ in newspapers?  The ad included an envelope, a sheet of stamps in the image of album covers (mostly Top 40 and classic rock releases), and a card with 13 empty spaces on which the 12 desired album stamps are to be pasted plus a single penny taped at the top.  In return, all I had to do was buy two full-priced albums within the next year, which was the easy part.  The real challenge was having to respond – by mail, of course – to the monthly advertisement letter in time; failing to do so resulted in the automatic shipment of the Cassette/CD Of The Month.  So that’s six letters I had to mail with the Not Interested box checked on a monthly basis for about 2-3 years.  Why six?  Well, that’s because I also had three aliases for Columbia House’s competitor, BMG.  Oy.

Columbia House was purchased by BMG in the 90s, and earlier this year BMG finally sunk under the weight of its own anachronistic business model.  So to mourn/celebrate the demise of the music subscription service by mail, which, for me, had its last gasp during a drunken infomercial purchase over 10 years ago, here’s a song from the first batch of cassettes I received:

Lodi, Creedence Clearwater Revival (from Green River, 1969).
Joon Young.  Scooby Young.  Young Drew.  These are just three of the aliases I used to subscribe to Columbia House Record club in the 80s and early 90s.  Do you remember Columbia House, buy viagra store the direct-mail music subscription service that advertised 12 Cassettes/CDs For Just 1¢ in newspapers?  The ad included an envelope, purchase a sheet of stamps in the image of album covers (mostly Top 40 and classic rock releases), and a card with 13 empty spaces on which the 12 desired album stamps are to be pasted plus a single penny taped at the top.  In return, all I had to do was buy two full-priced albums within the next year, which was the easy part.  The real challenge was having to respond – by mail, of course – to the monthly advertisement letter in time; failing to do so resulted in the automatic shipment of the Cassette/CD Of The Month.  So that’s six letters I had to mail with the Not Interested box checked on a monthly basis for about 2-3 years.  Why six?  Well, that’s because I also had three aliases for Columbia House’s competitor, BMG.  Oy.

Columbia House was purchased by BMG in the 90s, and earlier this year BMG finally sunk under the weight of its own anachronistic business model.  So to mourn/celebrate the demise of the music subscription service by mail, which, for me, had its last gasp during a drunken infomercial purchase over 10 years ago, here’s a song from the first batch of cassettes I received:

Lodi, Creedence Clearwater Revival (from Green River, 1969).
[Hmm, discount viagra remedy I seem to be in a nostalgic mood lately.]

I still remember the first two albums I ever bought.  It was the summer of 1984 and I was 13.  While I’m sure I had no idea at the time that I would later become obsessed with music, generic viagra pharmacy I clearly sensed that music was more than just…music.  But it wouldn’t be for another year or so before I could really start to appreciate what music meant to me, and as much as it pains me to do it now given his taste in music a few years later (Debbie Gibson, Tiffany, etc), I have to thank my oldest brother.  If it weren’t for him, I probably would not have gained such an early love and appreciation for The Beatles, who without a doubt changed the course of my life.

I know what you’re thinking.  If The Beatles meant so much to me at the age of 14, then surely the first albums I bought the previous year were their musical antecedents – maybe Chuck Berry or Little Richard or Elvis.  Not quite.  When I walked into the Camelot music store at the local mall that shielded shoppers from the carcass-infested stench of Greeley, Colorado, I had only one intention: buy the soundtrack to, yes, that’s right, Ghostbusters.  I’ll give you a moment to laugh.

Anyway, what I did not expect was to also buy Huey Lewis & The News’ Sports album (shut up, it’s actually a decent – albeit dated – record), released in 1983.  As for Ghostbusters, well, I guessed I REALLY liked the movie…

So Huey Lewis and Ray Parker, Jr. will forever be linked in my musical world.  Of course I had no idea at the time that they were literally linked musically.

Do you remember your first?

The Heart Of Rock And Roll, Huey Lewis & The News (from Sports-Buy Here, 1983).
Ghostbusters, Ray Parker, Jr. (from Ghostbusters Soundtrack-Buy Here, 1984).

Posted in Music and Life.