I have written before about the collector gene that is intricately woven into my soul. It came from my dad.
A few weeks back, I was going though some boxes (to find something I needed for work) - and I came across this little note.
My dad loved to borrow records (vinyl) from the local library and tape them for his later pleasure. The problem was that after he died, that tape collection was one of the millions of things my mom had to get rid of before she moved from a 3-bedroom house to a 1-bedroom apartment.
My dad didn't know much about copyright laws. And the RIAA wasn't yet going door to door making arrests like today.