I told him my name was Emilie. He said, "John" in response. He owns a record shop - well, a closet full of records - on about 30th and 8th avenue. I walked past and had to go in, inquire and meet him. I asked if I could take his photo and he seemed pleased with the idea - just nodded slowly, looked at me straight in the eyes and then smiled with his. I asked him how much his records were: "up to $10" said the sign he pointed to. He was really easy going - I mean, he moved his head, arms and eyes like a sloth, but a sloth with total poise and self-esteem.
I asked him if he spent every day here and his head tilted vertically in accord once again. How many years? I tagged on. 40, the number came out of like a puff of gruff air. Pleased though. Then I asked him what his favorite record was. He guffawed a little, like my question was out of nowhere, but he didn't hesitate and pointed directly to this one:
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