I whisper sweet things. You tell all your friends. They'll come running to me.

James Taylor, you really effed things up when you covered "Handyman". I've recently re-fallen head-over-heels for the original and then my mom pointed out that you covered it (probably in the hit-or-miss 1970s) and it ALL came rushing into my brain at warp speed. Your horrific cover of an awesome jam. I've never liked you, James Taylor, but now I downright despise you and your lack of range. You probably made Jimmy Jones roll over in his grave...if he's dead...not fully informed on that one.

I need to get a turntable into my life. My records are just sitting in the art room feeling forgotten, unloved and under appreciated, much like many annoying American women. I also need a jukebox, and I think I need it more than a Ms. Pac-Man machine but that's still up for debate. I've got a lot of 45s that would make for one HELL of a 50s/60s dance party jukebox. I need to start squirreling away nuts to make this dream come true. I also have to ignore the nagging voice saying "Jukebox or your son's Ivy League college education??" 

I bet it's one of those forgotten, unloved and under appreciated American women.