After reading this sweet post on Oh Happy Day I got to thinking about my own parallel love for Juke boxes. I was very lucky to inherit one when I was 17. My Dad owned a bar and when he downgraded to a cd type player he gave the old Jukebox to my sister and I. It was a seventies rainbow type filled with Rolling Stone, Otis Redding and Beatles. All 45′s.
Owning a Juke box sounds a lot like acquiring an old photobooth, they both involve special repair man who will tell you all the reasons you should not own it. Yet when you hear the sound and see the pictures, they drown out the this may not be a good idea sound. Of course both can get the party started with just one click.
Moving around with a jukebox as a teenager in those early years was no small feat. I even traveled with it to college in San Diego. I met many an interesting repair man, and counseled movers on how to get it safely from point A to B. It broke down many times, aging fast under our wings. It took month long breaks where it served as a ashtray/laundry/gossip table. Amazingly we always scraped together our quarters and got the beauty up and singing again. When I think of the days we had the jukebox thumping I cannot help but crack a smile.