Rant #2,977: Record Jock

Welcome to the week ahead!
 
My family and I had a nice, pretty quiet weekend, which was good for a change.

We did have some things to do.
 
We attended an open house at my son’s workplace.
 
They just moved into new digs, and we took a tour of their new facilities. It was very interesting, very illuminating, and I am happy that my son can share in their pride.
 
And then, watching baseball came into clear focus. Aaron Judge hit two more home runs, giving him 59 on the season, one shy of Babe Ruth’s 60 in 1927 and two shy of Roger Maris’ 61 in 1961.
 
Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire and Barry Bonds all hit more homers in a season, but that was during baseball’s steroid era, so their feats are always going to be suspect.
 
The only things that Ruth and Maris took to boost themselves were hot dogs and cigarettes, respectively, and Judge might be chewing a wad of gum, but the three Yankees’ home run feats are legitimate, so all eyes will be on Judge this week, where he will most likely leapfrog over Ruth and Maris and have the single-season homerun record all to himself.
 
Fans will have their phones out at every Judge at bat, and those watching at home will set their DVRs to record the occasion.
 
Me, I still have a DVD recorder, so I will record each at bat with anticipation, beginning on Tuesday when the Yankees face the Pittsburgh Pirates at Yankee Stadium—the perfect setting for the record to be broken.
 
And this past weekend, I also attended a record show held right in my community, a show that I regularly attend during the three or four times that they hold it in the local VFW hall each year.
 
Attendees are required to wear face coverings during this show, which is probably a good thing because all the vendors are in a big, hot, steamy room and there are hundreds of people in this room at a time.
 
I set my own personal parameters when I go to one of these things: I have only so much money to spend, and when it gets too hot and steamy in there, it is time for me to leave.
 
I actually did pretty well yesterday, spending a minimum amount of money and purchasing seven items,
 
But the one thing I bought that I want to focus on is something called Hip-Pocket Records, and if you are a Baby Boomer, you might remember them.
 
Put out by Philco from 1967 to 1969, they were small flexidiscs inside an envelope that you could buy in only a few places, including Woolworth’s and I believe at Ford car dealers.
 
They were sold in a pre-made box right at the counter at these venues—including at the Kress Store, an affiliate of Woolworth’s that I shopped at way back when I lived in Rochdale Village, South Jamaica, Queens, New York.
 
They came in envelopes that opened at the bottom, with these envelopes usually featuring the act’s picture right on their front with the two songs—front and back, just like a real 45—stated on both sides of the envelope.
 
You could only play them on record players where there was no automatic return—remember, some record players had an automatic return after a 45 or LP was done, and some of these could be set where that feature was muted by choice by the listener.
 
There were also record players sold specifically to play these flexidiscs—basically a small, wobbly sound sheet that you could fit in your pocket or purse—and they featured the hits of the day, and some children’s recordings, and sold for anywhere from 39 cents to 69 cents.
 
This “portable music” at the time never caught on, but it did spur a competitor, Americom Corporation’s Pocket Disk, where music came on a firmer recording format and was sold in vending machines.
 
These are much rarer than the Hip-Pocket Records, and are much pricier, with some featuring Beatles recordings, including an appended “Hey Jude," whose seven minutes, 14 seconds of music could not be fully contained on the three minutes per side that these disks allowed for.
 
Anyway, one vendor was selling these Hip-Pocket Records at a reasonable price, and since I didn’t know if my current record player would play them, I bought just one of them to see what would happen.
 
You can see what I bought in the picture above, and I figured that this would be a good two songs to try out once I got home—
 
And let me tell you, for a more than 50-year old flexidisc, it played almost like brand new on my record player, which is hooked up to my computer, so I digitized it too.
 
Sure, the two McCoys songs don’t have quite the punch they have on 45 or on LP, but I was still surprised at the resonance that tmusic had at sort of a low-if mono pitch.
 
And since this one played so well, I could kick myself for not buying more of them—the vendor had everyone from the Rascals to Aretha Franklin to the Five Americans that he was trying to sell.
 
Maybe he will be back at the next record show, and I will be able to buy more of these for my collection.
 
Sure, Hip-Pocket Records are kind of laughable in 2022, where we can have maximum portability of our favorite music right on our phone, but 50 years ago, this is what we had, and while it stands today as nothing but a novelty, these flexidiscs have become highly collectible …
 
So I am happy that I finally have one in my collection, and maybe somewhere down the line, I will get some more.
 
Certainly, Aaron Judge will break the single-season home run record way before I add another Hip-Pocket Record to my collection, but I guess to each his own when it comes to “records.”