Friday saw me going on my first british road trip ever. I went with Ross and Jimmy to Reading, just an hour drive from London, to have a look at the Reading International Mammoth Fair, which is nothing but a medium-size gathering of loonies obsessed with records, DVDs and CDs. We got there around 11am and spent the next 3 hours browsing through hundreds of thousands of vinyls, most of them priced quite reasonably. This time around, I got one of my all-time favourite records: The Stone Roses’ homonymous album, on red vinyl, which I’ve been playing since I got home. It’s a beauty.
I also got my favourite Led Zeppelin record (Led Zeppelin II) as a present from Jimmy, which was really nice of him. It’s a mexican copy, also on red vinyl, and although he didn’t sign it or anything (I rarely ask for autographs or pictures), it still means a lot simply because it was a gift from the man himself. When he was buying it, I remember thinking: “wait a minute, did Jimmy Page just treat me with a Led Zeppelin record? Sweet”.
After the fair, we went to Jimmy’s house to sort out the records we have bought (they were all mixed up in different bags) and it was there where I found sitting on a big shelf, along with other stuff, a glow-in-the-dark figure of José Gregorio Hernández. I was a bit shocked. I asked Jimmy if he knew who the guy was but he didn’t. He couldn’t even remember where he had gotten it, which is totally acceptable (I’m not even half his age and have already forgotten my debit card pin number, twice). I explained him that José Gregorio Hernández had been a Venezuelan physician who went to reach legendary status after his death due to people claiming to have been granted miracles after praying to him. I think Jimmy was quite surprised, maybe as much as I was to find that little figure in his house, on a Good Friday. It was a strange moment.
Anyway, we bid him goodbye and drove back to London listening to an amazing Pink Floyd record which name I can’t remember (for a change), I only know it featured live recordings from a show they did in Birmingham, back in 1969. I will ask Ross and post an update here, just in case you’re interested.
Meanwhile, the housemates are cooking lunch, my nose is running again (spring flu has arrived) and this red circle placidly spins in my room, filling the air with killer riffs and powerful beats that remind me why I fell in love with the mighty Zep in the first place.
Happy Easter, everybody.