More on Aron’s Records

Every once and a while we get a fantasic comment on an older post that, since it’s been pushed off the front page, largely goes unnoticed. We got one of those comments today about Aron’s Records closing up shop and I thought it was worth reprinting so more people would see it. Chris Checkman writes the following, it’s longwinded – but worth it:

“Of course the death of any sort of indie record store is an occasion for true sadness, as it signals yet another step on the march toward the great bland lowest common denominator that will surely claim us all.

Fucking sad. Yet…

I cannot say I am shedding all that many tears for Aron’s, nor do know I many indie-store lovers who are, either.

But, first, a bit of backtracking here:

For a number of years, I was co-manager of a little indie store in Mar Vista called Record Rover, which was located at 12204 Venice Bl. Unfortunately, we went out of business because the cunt landlord (Grace) wanted to renew our lease at nearly another thousand dollars per month– which meant that Rover, being a store that served the poky local community and was very much a niche store, had to die.

Fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, one could say downloading, even back then (we closed at the end of June ’02) may have had something to do with it; but, in the end, it was that graying, twisted old cunt Grace that just decided to fuck us out of our existence.

Hey, it happens….

So what, if anything, makes me an expert on the demise of Aron’s? Well, several things, since you are asking….

From a consumer/seller standpoint, count me as one of the many who felt the staff at Aron’s was just the worst. Long before I got the job at Record Rover, I was among the many either selling or trying to buy at Aron’s– and, every fucking time I was met with nothing less (or should I say “more”) than some sort of standardized, pushy-assed snotty attitude; as though I (as a patron) were somehow blighting their quasi-hip lil’ fake ‘alternative’ universe!

Believe me, folks, this did not happen merely once; but, every last goddamn time I ventured into that store– and this goes back to the early/mid 90’s. If I was selling, I got nothing but attitude from the cunts behind the counter; and the same story goes when I was buying.

It was like they were conferring upon me some sort of great favor by even deigning to look at my shit for sale, or ring up my purchases; when, in reality, they were nothing more (and actually far less) than a collection of ready-made cliche stereotypes of what an Australian filmmaker might dream of when trying to think of what a Hollywood record store might be like: Overly tattooed dimwits weraing crisp, new “Gang Of Four” shirts while sporting as many facial piercings as their balsa wood heads could support– and all of them with their “ooh, we’re trying to be dark and moody!” disapproving glances, as though anyone gave a shit….

Sure, it must be said that we at Record Rover would ourselves make jokes at customers expenses in terms of what they were trying to sell or buy; but, the difference was that we usually did it after they left– and those we were cunts towards to their faces got the full measure of our disdain because they popped off at us first. When this was the case, it was every man for himself, right?

At Aron’s, there never was such a line to walk or cross, as everyone just got shit because the staff was beyond being so full of themselves.

What made it all so funny was the self-appointed nature of their collective grandeur: Just because some fop dude or cunt possessing X amount of tats and piercings mixed with just the right-for-the-moment newly minted Bauhaus t-shirt does NOT make them some sort of cultural avatar– it just makes them more entrants in a line of cookie-cutter idiots who think they’re the shit because they’re the guy(s) with one pinky nail painted black, or they’re the pushy fat chicks with multiple piercings manning the register with that blank-eyed stare requisitioned from central casting– as though any of that shit ever made them unique, or pre-qualified to make any of the rest of us feel like assholes for patronizing their little slice of poseur heaven.

It did not. It just made them goofy-assed laughing stock for those of us who decided after awhile to never go there again. And, it was that (not Amoeba, nor dowloading) which eventually killed the smug cunt on the hill that was Aron’s Records.

Piss off enough people, and enough people will stay away.

Three plus years on, and I still miss Record Rover, as there was never any better place to work (if you like doing this type of shit for no real money, I mean), listen to music, get high, listen to more music, and deal with customers who, in some cases, are NOT dimwits, and are as much music geeks as I was then, and always will be.

Despite Amoeba, Best Buy, WalMart, downloading and all the other things that some might see as an impediment to a truly indie record store, my dream is to, one day, open such a store of my own.

Maybe it succeeds, maybe it fails; but, as the owner of such a possible future enterprise, I would hope no applicant cites as an influence Aron’s Records, as they will immediately be disregarded on hat fact alone. Period.

Yes, in theory, any mom-pop shop taking the long dark train sucks; but, from my experience with Aron’s, I can only be gracious enough to say…

“Bye-bye, assholes. Fuck you for all your fake snide wannabe attitude; and good luck to everyone trying to either re-enroll in Cal Arts or eke out a job as the snottiest bag person EVER at Trader Joes”….

While it is, yes, sad another small record store has gone; the fact that it is Aron’s makes me ask only this question:

What took so long?

While a number of people kissed their feet during their existence, I always wondered why anyone would suck the butt of such a bunch of fashion-first/function-second dipshits, as it made no sense to me:

Fairly lame selection, incompetent/insolent staff who didn’t care anything about issues other than how their piercings and mascara looked as they themselves looked down oon those who populated their mysteriously popular store…

I just didn’t get it.

Bye bye, you one-dimensional carboard cutout shits. See you in hell…

chris checkman”

29 Replies to “More on Aron’s Records”

  1. Wow. I couldn’t agree more, but like the man said, did there have to be so many curse words?

    (Truly, I think the language is so bad that it distracts and ultimately detracts from his point. But I couldn’t pass up the chance to Lebowski either….)

  2. To One And All,
    I am new here; and, having pissed off a number of people elsewhere on the net with the way I sometimes convey myself (most people on imdb.com seem to be chasing me with torches and pitchforks, for example…), I am not looking to inadverdantly make more enemies,though we never know how these things will go, right?

    Ruth666: My wonderful, beloved, long-suffering, deserves-way-better-than-me girlfriend would be the very first to agree with you on the issue of my use of the more vile forms of language. Perhaps this explains why I am the most failed freelance writer of my generation (along with the irresponsibility thing on my part, which we won’t delve into here…); but, it is how I write– which is not to say that I am not trying to work on it…

    She has said, time and again, that (in her opinion) I write more than well enough that I do not need to express certain things in such vulgar ways. In theory, she is right; but, if I am to keep up my life’s central theme of shooting myself in the foot at critical times, well…

    All jokes aside, some issues just really rankle me; to the point where “gosh darn” and other such substitutes for expletives cannot nearly convey the sentiments I feel. Count Aron’s as one of them.

    Personally, I do not see such extemporaneous verbal blood vomit as detracting from my point; but, I can see where some might. In any event, thanks for taking the time to read and respond to my post.

    To Sean Bonner: Thanks for posting my words. It is much appreciated, really.

    To JJJ: Thanks to you, and anyone else who took the time to slog through the post.

    To the rest, I simply say this: Aron’s should have been able to sustain their spot as a (the?)leading local indie store. While I am not bawling one tear as they take their place in the great choir invisible, it does suck knowing that it was, in the end their own hand (and not outside forces, as some have claimed) that knocked them into the vapors of history.

    Call it accidental suicide by arrogance.

    It never had to be like this…

    chris checkman

  3. I agree with you, except for one point:

    “New” Gang of Four t-shirts? AS IF! Who would DARE wear something like that? Buffalo Exchange TOTALLY has vintage versions, much cooler!

    Please read indie sarcasm.

    And now with Rhino records out of business (effectively in two weeks or so) Amoeba will raise all their prices ’cause they’re the only ones in the game. Le Sigh.

  4. I’m with your girlfriend – you CAN express yourself without every word being Fuck or Cunt. Not that I’m opposed to using these words (far from it) – for me it’s about IMPACT. I get that you’re passionate about your subject, but if your writing only uses the same four words, nobody is going to want to read it.

    The shock value of a lone cunt is far greater than the ho-hum of seeing it in every motherfucking asshole cocksucker cunting cunt cunt cunting sentence.

  5. Ruth666,
    I’m not saying you, or my girlfriend, are wrong. Believe me, I know I can sometimes go extemporaneously overboard with words bounding around my mind that might be better expressed in print or digital text.

    In the case of my original entry here, I just purged what I was feeling, as I really, really HATED the Aron’s cult of personality; and, while it, to you (and the Mrs., and possibly others) might well have detracted from my message, my post was not intended to be a prime example of my writing, nor any great art, or anything else other than the words of someone who was quite riled up.

    The words were not intended for shock value, nor any sort of “look at me, ain’t I cool?” kind of emphasis, either. I was just kind of bitching about a subject (indie record stores) near and dear to my heart. I was just so pissed up by it all that I went off a little, you know?

    And, what pissed me off the most wasn’t necessarily that it was specifically that Aron’s Records itself that went out of business, as they were utter pricks for as long as I can remember….

    It was because, in the end, the did it to themselves. Look, nobody seeking to make a retirement fortune would ever be dumb enough to try and start an independent/non-chain store; but, for those of us who appreciate such an effort, I believe the very least we can expect to expect is to not be treated like shit by dumbassed clones who haven’t the brains to understand that none of us is there to suffer their attitude(s).

    This, Ruth, is what pisses me off most. While the bitter worshippers will rail at Amoeba and downloading, they are wrong; and, only one truth remains.

    Aron’s would survived, and should’ve done so, easily; but, they did not.

    It was not the downloading, nor Amoeba, no matter how many great and self-serving pains people take to try and demonize them, who did this. It was not Oprah, and it was not the merciless devil commercial music conglomerates, nor was it Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson (those Bible-twisting idiots…), who did this.

    It wasn’t Best Buy or Wal-Mart, either.

    It was Aron’s thmselves, pure and simple.

    I assume everyone on this board knows the movie “High Fidelity”, and has seen the scene where Louis rips on Rob, Barry and Dick for “elitists” when Barry parades a coveted LP under the nose of a concerned buy, only to tell him, in a rather snarky way, that the LP is not for sale that week. Cruel and extreme though it may be, it is clear the protagonists are fucking with someone (wrong though it may be) with whom they’ve had some sort of history.

    Long before the movie, Aron’s did this, and far worse, with everybody.

    This is why they died. They treated pretty much everyone the same: like shit.

    And, the fact that it didn’t have to be this way is what set me off in such a manner; well, that and the many glowing online tributes to this Mussolini of a record store…

    Aron’s could’ve been the one to dig a line in the sand and establish a beachhead for smaller, non-chain stores. Instead….

    They just made it that much harder for people like me (who want to open, one day, such a store) and those who wish to patronize such places.

    This is why I went off as I did….

    They crashed and burned under the weight of their own arrogant self-perceived hipness quotient; which is simply unforgivable….

    To me, anyway.

    chris

  6. I completely agree – Aron’s was a crappy store populated by mean jerks who only came to work to judge customers and dish out abuse. The market adjusts itself! Amoeba will continue to kick ass – until/unless they too decide that their need to piss on their customers is greater than their need to provide a service.

    I don’t believe any of that “downloading is the enemy” stuff either – the truth is plenty of people are buying the music they want. If they can find it in a pleasant shopping experience they will buy in a store. If not, there’s always amazon.com.

  7. All very touching. The poor music lover who hated the tyranny of the Aron’s wannabes. Obviously, despite repeated experience, he never learned the rules.

    Anybody who tried to sell their stuff at Aron’s more than once or twice was an idiot. The secret to was buying all the cheap garbage promos there and taking them to indies in outlying areas and dumping them. Once you found a relationship with a couple of indies out in the less groovy parts of Orange County, Riverside, etc. you could usually count on a set price per unit for the gross of what you brought in. The profit margin could be considerable.

    At the same time, if they saw you buying a lot of used/promo junk in Aron’s, after a time they would start giving you a discount. Sometimes a substantial discount if you bought a lot at one time. The newest promos were always the most expensive, the oldest ones the cheapest.

    Manny, the owner, bought low and sold high because he figured out there was a good buck in it on saleable items.

    He bought low and sold low on most of the promos except for that select group of people in the industry with whom he had a regular relationship — there were always periods, particularly when there was a bad slump where just about anything except what wound up on the Billboard hot 100 could be found in the promo bins, usually for less than a dollar.

    A visit to Aron’s, if you were in any way involved in or stood on the periphery of the industry was like looking at a current index of what was really going on — stuff that had a brief appearance on the charts would often appear in vast quantities right after, sometimes right before it dropped off into oblivion. Aron’s was the industry’s dirtry little secret — it was where they dumped large amounts of units that had already been reported as sold. This was the core of the business in number of ways — those “loss leaders” (which were never a loss for the store — they always paid for themselves) brought in traffic and helped sell the rest of his new stock — which while okay, was never spectacular in its variety.

    As for the closing — Manny, if still alive, would have to be pretty old by now. He may have decided to retire. He may be dead. He may have sold the business — my personal guess is that the main wellsprings of the tons of material that came through that store (and eventually filled the used bins of most of the indie stores in Southern California) have been merged, divested and re-merged — old standbys such as Warner’s, Columbia/Sony, etc–no longer engage in the fast and loose seat of the pants accounting practices that made those labels run like family businesses and made places like Aron’s possible.

    This for two reasons — downloading did kill one important avenue — up and coming indies. In the mid-90’s there were a number of indies that had managed to make the hurdle in sales, developed rosters of artists and a core clientele that was starting to expand. Some of them, such as Ninja. were getting international distribution. Of course as their business expanded the margins got narrower and growth was everything. Downloading killed a number of those labels that had graduated beyond the garage/mail order stage and severely crippled others.

    But as a result of that spurt of growth a number of the corporate labels had virtually stopped experimenting with anything out of the ordinary. When those promising indies receded, the now giga-corporate majors were not quick to take up the slack. Few decisions are now made by record company executives — they are made in the boardrooms of parent companies.

    This leaves few promos and no risk-taking, and no companies, as crooked as they sometimes might have been, to put out new and interesting things, and a lot of crap, that was nevertheless varied crap. In other words we have arrived at near entropy.

    With regard to the whiner carrying on about the Aron’s people not dealing with him in a fair manner — I started visiting Aron’s in the 70’s — and I don’t recall a time where upon walking in there wasn’t some naive moron arguing with the buyer over the worth of his material. It was always good for a laugh. As far as his description of the appearance of the store personnel — I can’t think of an independent store in Southern California whose emplyees don’t fit that description. The secret in dealing with them was becoming at the very least cordial — if you were nice to them, they would in turn start being nice to you. And favors would be done.

    In the forty some years that Aron’s ran, Manny trained a lot of people in the hard knocks of music retailing. A number of them went on to successful ventures of their own because they paid attention to those lessons. If your store in Venice — what was it –Record Rover had to die because of an extra 1000 bucks overhead a month, then it is obvious you never learned a thing, either in your own store or anywhere else — about how to run a business.

    Now maybe you could grace us with some more whining.

  8. THE FOLLOWING POST IS DONE WITH APOLOGIES TO RUTH666, MY BELOVED GIRLFRIEND, AND ANYONE ELSE WHO MIGHT NOT DIG WHATEVER VULGARITIES MAY FOLLOW:

    Martin:
    Well, aren’t you the little industry insider? Your contstant references to this Manny person make you either A)someone who fancies himself as an expert or, B)one of the twelve lost apostles of Manny.

    In any event, to me you are simply an idiot.

    Yeah, Marty, it is true we at Record Rover couldn’t hang with the extra grand per month the landlord was asking; so I guess that made us incompetent, huh? Either that, or maybe (just maybe) we were just in it to run a record store, sell and buy music, surround ourselves with music, and serve the neighborhood in which we toiled.

    I mean, as opposed to getting rich, looking down on people, being assholes, or doing anything else taken from the Book Of Manny.

    As for myself or anyone else who attempted to sell at Aron’s more than once being an idiot, let me first set your head straight– and then smack it clean fucking off your hunched pre-evolutionary shoulders: I was not talking about bringing in hundreds of titles (and could not give a fuck about your ‘index’ theories) ripped off via the use of drunken security guards who worked at the various labels; I was talking about living (as I did, for a time) in the neighborhood and wanting to, occasionally, sell my excess/burned out stuff for cash. Believe me, Martin, if they had much stock at all in which I was interested, I’d have gone for the credit. Since they did not, I went for the cash. To this end, Aron’s was local, and therefore (wait for it!), a neighborhood convenience within relative walking distance; and yet….

    Even though I was something of a regular, they (obviously borrowing from the sacred texts of MANNY) learned well enough from him to treat me, and everyone else like shit, as we dared force upon them our lesser presences.

    HOW FUCKING DARE WE?!

    Oh yeah, loved your little section on Manny Christ’s theory of buying/pricing/selling; as it is obvious it worked so well for those he trained at his golden feet that they ARE NOW FUCKING GOING OUT OF BUSINESS!

    Hey, if Manny’s golden children couldn’t beat Amoeba and downloading, then it is obvious they never learned a thing, either in their own store or anywhere else– about how to run a business….

    Do those bullshit words remind you of the blitherings of anyone holding your driver’s license, Martin?

    C’mon, Mr. Loss Leader/Index twat boy! You’re the big expert here, right? Hell, I realize I only co-managed a shop that wasn’t in the heart of HipsterVille; and, even though I actually had to deal with distibutors, off-the-street-sellers, and paying customers everyday for years and years, it is obvious that you know just so much more than do I, Saint Martin….

    This being the case, let me say a few last things before you sit your self-canonized candyass on your throne of bullshit, you brain-dead idiot….

    From your words, you bottom-feeding crumb-suckers, you obviously never knew what it was to actually work in such a store you believed in enough to take a crap salary– or any store for that matter. As such, you do not know what it might be like to tread the fair balance of professionalism/disdain with certain customers who really piss you off; just as you do not know what it is like to enjoy an off-the-cuff 20 minute conversation with a stranger on the relative merits of Badfinger or the Aerovons or just what it feels like to so love working in a store that isn’t about sneering posing bullshit, hat you are just as as happy for a day of work as you are a day off…

    No, Record Rover didn’t have a high priest visionary like your boyfriend Manny; but, we didn’t need such, nor want it. Knock our legacy if you like; but, we were a little shop with no pretensions, who only wanted to sell music to our neighbors who dug what we had to offer. There were no smug attitudes, no poses; nothing like that. It was just a record store in a small, out of the way neighborhood; and when the landlord clamped down, we were beaten.

    No bitching about downloading, no bitching about bigger entities, no fucking whining about how unfair it all was.

    We lived as we lived; and died the same way– even if we never had an icon like Manny, which was probably for the best.

    Guess what, Martin? Aron’s is now dead too; even despite Lord Manny’s great teachings…

    Go on, Martin, speak your bullshit blitherings now about how Aron’s was so goddamn great, when all they did was spend their time and energy on pissing people off, providing them with shit customer service an a fairly weak and lame stock from which to choose!

    Tell me how Aron’s was any better than Scooter’s, Record Rover, or even the Santa Monica location of Moby Disc! Go on, big talker with no experience other than the bullshit fantasies that reside in your staph-infected head…

    Tell me, asshole.

    I’m waiting, you know-nothing, ass-kissing piece of hocked-up lung meat! What store did you work in you genius, you? If you are such a know-all, then maybe I have underestimated you; and perhaps you have a ton of experience from behind the counter in some indie store somewhere, so maybe all of us on this thread can benefit from all your worldly indie-store retail experience.

    But…

    If you are just shooting off your broken toilet of a mouth, simply because you wish to be an entrant in such a discussion (or were one time lucky enough to let Manny teabag you during some downtime at the PCC swapmeet), please know that your know-nothing, Manny-lovin’ ass has barked up the wrong tree.

    Period.

    “Now maybe you could grace us with more whining”?

    If and when I open up my own shop, feel free to come on down, blither at will and, at some point, make your expert presence known to those of us idiots who will NOT be following the Manny bookand, instead, just be running a shop by and for those who actually love music. Apparently, your experience at Aron’s was different than mine; but, I’d still love to meet you amid the din of a shop that was more about music and less about the cult of who ran it.

    Bitch on, Martin.

    You amuse me………

    chris checkman

  9. Checkman:

    Glad you decided to whine just a little more. Allow me to reiterate and at the same time, rephrase:

    -Facts are stupid. They don’t give a damn what you think. Or do. All the ad hominem attacks in the world won’t change the way Aron’s did business. And they did do business. For forty years. How come Wed Wover wasn’t in business for fowty years? Oh. I’m sorry, Elmer. I forgot. You were noble. And the good always die young.

    -Anybody that can spare twenty minutes to talk about fucking BADFINGER, fachrissakes, is also a fucking idiot.

    – When a poster with a grievance can’t think of anywhere else to go, he goes to the toilet — which is apparently where your mind, if not the rest of you as well spends most of its time. Time to lay off the candy bars, sweetie.

    – You see yourself as a victim, and like all self styled victims you expect the world to give you a free ride — if those pieces you brought into Aron’s were so good, why didn’t you just cycle them through the used section of your own store? Because you knew nobody would buy them and you expected the people at Aron’s to be stupid enough not to notice what you already knew. Or you stole them from your own store and rationalized that with the same crap about not getting paid enough. If you were so goddamned altruistic why bring it up. And if you hated the place so much why the hell did you keep going back?

    Because you like to snivel. And whine.

    The guys at Aron’s had you all sized up in about fifteen seconds. Which is one of the reasons you got the response you did.

    As far as your little scenario about people hustling stuff past drunken security guards, it’s perfectly exemplary of how your small-time little petty criminal mind works — there was nothing surreptitious about it –somebody made a phone call to somebody in ware house and truckloads of product were redesignated promos, stamped or scored and simply disappeared. All out in the open. Much bigger corruption than anything that little rodent brain of yours could possibly conceive since it never gets past gnawing on the odd pilfered nutmeat.

    W/regard to you having your own store — based on what you already said about the extra 12 grand a year — it’s obvious you don’t have a clue how to run a business, start a corporation or deal with a bank. That’s okay — the days of store-based music retailing are rapidly drawing to a close, again whether you like it or not.

    So dream on about standing behind the counter in your own little place and pontificating about what might be. Because not even that will be. Even if you did know how to incorporate, write a business plan and get a line of credit from a bank I don’t think you could handle it. Because you’re a victim and the comments you post say far more about you than they do about anything you’re trying to tear apart, because they come from a position of total despair and self loathing.

    You’re a loser checkman, and you’ll always be one for one simple reason: all you want to do is sit around snivelling about the way things ought to be rather than dealing with the way they fucking well are. And it would never occur to you really get off your ass and do something to change them. It’s much more fun to whine and flaunt your penury.

    Now take your little sleeve-tat arms (I can practically hear them in your posts–you know –the ones that keep you from getting a real job) and put on that Pale Fountains CD, light that candle and remember the good old days — whether they were about age, music, the stores you frequented or all of the above. Sit around and remember them. Because they’re gone, you dumb jackass. And they ain’t comin’ back. At least not in your pathetic little lifetime.

    Now squeal some more.

  10. I know this will just make this go on longer, but Gee Whiz, Martin, what the hell do you need to prove here?

    Talk about ad hominem atttacks – what else is your overly lengthy, vicious, and inappropriately personal diatribe against a total stranger? Chris is just telling his story, to which he is entitled.

    Maybe YOU owned Aron’s, and are a little too sensitive to people criticizing it???

    Hoo-GAH, man, it’s just a record store. And for the record (hee hee) it DID suck.

  11. (Oh hell, here we go again)
    To Ruth666:
    First off, thanks for the support. Believe me,it is appreciated. You are right: I entered into this forum simply because my girlfriend told me of it, and knew I would have some interest in saying my two-bits.

    That was it! Until bitter-assed-expert-on-everything-about-the-business Martin was stupid enough to presume we are all as deluded about his fantasies as is he.

    Again, Ruth, thanks; and, if your stomach can take another go-round, here it is….

    Ohh, Martin:

    It is truly impossible to tell just what is the worst aspect of your so-called ‘personality’: Is it that you are an idiot fully licensed to practice in the Western Hemisphere, or that you haven’t a clue that you are such a strain of babbling moron?

    From your posts, it is hard to tell; and from all the curdled drivel from your latest blast of sub-brilliance, it is hard to determine even where to start.

    Don’t worry, somehow I’ll manage.

    While you end your latest tract with “now squeal some more”, it is the beginning that most intrigued me– if only because it invalidated not only your entire argument, but perhaps your entire miserable godforsaken little existence, as well:

    “Facts are stupid”. Let me repeat this for those who just came in, or who cannot believe what they’ve just read:

    From you:…(ahem!, cough, cough) “facts are stupid”.

    This is quite a thin film of a highwire upon which to hang the rest of your arguments, Martin, don’t you think?

    Are you saying that that which is recorded history means nothing? Are you going all crazed Teutonic Existentialist on on and telling us that things that actually happened did, in “fact”, never occur?

    Personally, I am having a drink right now. Or am I?

    “Facts are stupid”?

    It might be a bit hyperbolic of me to say this; but, in my rather long memory, there has NEVER been a more stupid nor arrogant way in which to open an argument!

    Ever.

    Still, I will give you this: It was far shorter than opening with, “Hey everybody, I’m Martin; a know-nothing dipshit loser who never actually worked in a record store, so I have no fucking idea about the words soon to tumble from my demonically stupid mouth. I’m just wandering in here to speak about stuff I’ve never experienced, and maybe pick up a few underage kids of indeterminate gender alongthe way. Oh hey, women?, you all should know that the myth of childbirth being painful is a crock of shit because I, Martin, say so! Oh yeah, this whole thing about dying if you get shot in the head 25 times is some sort of slick PR scam against the gun industry, too; and AIDS and famine and war are just Jew-run Madison Avenue PR scams, too….”

    You fucking idiot.

    Lemme tell you the real story, you sad, sad asshole.

    Had you bothered at all to see all the words in my original post, you might’ve been able to note that, nowhere in said post did I paint Record Rover as a victim of ANYTHING. Go read back, jerk. Yes, I said a few choice things about the landlord and her money-grubbing attempts to wring another grand per year from us; but, I also went out of my way to make VERY CLEAR that it was not downloading or the chain stores which did us in!

    On top of that, I ended that point of mention with the comment, “hey, it happens…”

    Does that sound like I was whining the old “victim” chant to you, Martin?

    If you took it as such, blame the teachers who taught you this language; but don’t use it as a tactical maneuver against me, as you will be summarily smacked down every time, even if cold hard reason ranks right next to “facts” in the INDEX of things you choose to conveniently dismiss….

    My tattoos: Got me there, Martin– you keen observer of human foibles, as I have ’em– you know, the (paraphrasing– look the word up) fully-sleeve tatted arms you “can practically hear from your posts”…

    I have two tattoos on my entire body. One on each forearm, both the size of quarters.

    Nice try, you insightful social observer, you.

    Having any fun yet, Martin?; because I am….

    You are serving ’em up like a batting practice pitcher, and I am smacking everyone of your lobs on the screws, right out of the park.

    I suppose that next you’ll tell me that, since baseball is a fact of life, it has never really existed, right?

    Oh yeah, my little whipping bitch moron serf, maybe you should also be privvy to the following:

    Yeah, yeah, since you never actually worked in an indie store, it automatically means you know everything; but, just for the moment, try and humor me.

    If you, Martin, actually loved music to the point where it might’ve mattered to you; then, maybe, you might know what it is like to spend a lazy twenty minutes on a Sunday or Friday, talking with a knowledgeable customer about Badfinger, or whatever band or label it might be.

    But you do not. All you were, in the long history of Aron’s Records was nothing more than a cunty lil’ camp follower just happy to be accepted for any reason . Oh yeah, you clueless asshole, the reason I never just sold said stock to Record Rover was because I stopped trying to patron Aron’s long before I began work at Rover; and, once I began working there, it was the ONLY place where I would recycle my stuff….

    But, back to you for a minute: You are the worst type of idiot to ever offer your worthless social discourse: You speak on a subject you know even less than peripherally; and yet you prattle on in the knowing tones of one who fancies himself an expert on a subject he, ultimately, knows nothing about!

    On top of that, you try and cite some sort of insider status (“Manny”!) as a way of giving your tortured bleatings some kind of street cred; when , in reality, you are just a sad sack old groupie bemoaning days now gone, and railing against anyone who actually has an idea of what they are saying…

    Face it, you sad, fading shit; you never had any idea about the business– you just liked that the fake wannabe stereotypes behind the counter knew your name, and now you miss it. So, now you just have to go and be another lost ghost, perusing your neighborhood until another retail entity (a liquor store, the wholesale vibrator place, etc.) sees you enough to remember your otherwise forgettable name, so you can again feel as though you matter; even though you know you barely) exist, and therefore, are a “fact”.

    And, “facts are stupid”, aren’t they?

    Come on back anytime, Martin, to tell me of your expertise in lives you’ve never lead, and only experienced through those who did lead them.

    Maybe you know better than most what it was like to fly sorties over VietNam, even if you were never there! Perhaps, you might favor us with your view of what it was like to talk Nixon into resigning!

    Or maybe, just maybe, we can somehow cajole you into telling us what it was like to be a Beatle.

    If you would, sad Martin….

    Please please me?

    chris

  12. checkman:

    Knew you’d love my comeback. Facts are stupid? Yes they are — in the passive sense, you murky backwash of a virgin swamp intelligence. Your command of English remains in doubt.

    That is to say — they are immutable, they reside, they are there, they don’t care about you. They exist, whether you know about them or not. The intelligent acknowledgement of their existence is entirely up to you. Only in your case that will never happen, because you are not intelligent.

    Fact: Aron’s made money, I made money, you never made money and unless you stop these impotent diatribes and get off your dead ass and do something, you never will. As far as running an indie store and lack of understanding/ success regarding same, the fact we possess, (and stupid it is despite your endless streams of obscenities regarding Aron’s, me or anybody else whose opinion varies from your party-of-one line) is this — you fucked up. Your store went down in a relatively short time. Reason? You failed to turn a profit.
    Another stupid fact: If you don’t turn a profit, you don’t stay in business.

    Waaah, checkman, waaaah. The cruelties of life.

    I knew you’d tell me about your tats–size of quarters you say? No doubt a 2D preview of the diameter of your brain

  13. Martin,
    I love how you have made such a limp attempt to somehow (through hindsight) try and paint your “facts are stupid” post in hues of intelligence unreachable by those lowlife suckers such as I.

    Whereas last night it read as written (which is to say, pure idiocy) now, tonight, it suddenly springs back to life as your more-brilliant-than-shit five-dimensional hallucinogenic take on life in the modern world.

    Yes, Martin; in your latest revisionist post, you foresaw every move I’d make, and knew of every word I’d say, well in advance. You knew I’d actually tell you my arms weren’t fully-sleeved; even though you calimed to be able to “practically hear” from my posts that they were, in fact, fully sleeved. Hmm…

    Lemme see if I can be as successful as you in predicting shit well after knowing the outcome:

    Hey everybody, the New York Jets are gonna win the ’69 Super Bowl! Groucho Marx will die in 1977! Martin will one day say something intelligent!

    Eh. Two out of three, right?

    Oh yeah, Uncle Martin, love your attempt a kill shot: “Another stupid fact: If you don’t turn a profit, you don’t stay in business”. Yeah man, you got me there.

    So, what kind of business will Aron’s be in come February? Please tell me, Martin?!

    Please think long and hard, or get your state-appointed executors and handlers to do it for you, before you make your next move here, Martin.

    I merely posted my thoughts on a public blog; and while, yes, I took my shots (well deserved and earned if you’d actually taken the time to read my words) at those from Aron’s who were, to me, a miserable pack of trendy, boorish bunch of shit I’d ever encountered– always remember that my words were coming from the POV of the consumer/customer.

    Isn’t the customer always right, Martin?

    After that, all you did was attack me personally– letting fly with your third rate vitriol as viewed through rose tinted glasses in mourning for Aron’s. All the while never once acknowledging that I spoke as a onetime longtime patron who actually experienced the very things that made me walk away from the store.

    You? What the hell did you do? Oh yeah, you made a string of lame insults and farted them in my direction as a way of somehow ‘calling me out’, based upon….?

    Well, what was it all based upon, Martin?

    I told you who I am, and what experience I have from both sides of the counter in this now-dying industry, did I not? What did you do, or say?

    Did you tell any of us your ‘qualifications’ you spoke upon so ineloquently? Look, I have no problem with someone opposing me, or even telling me I am full of shit; but, the least I, or anyone,should expect when someone positions themselves as something of an insider or expert on a subject is to at least know that they actually have experience in said field, whatever it is, and that they not hide behind any convenient cloak of anonymity…

    Whether you agree with me or not is one thing; but, for you to sit there and fire off your remedial screed from behind a wall of anonymity is simply the most absurd of absurd shit.

    Your credibility is lacking; and the fact that you try and shade previous posts in revisionist history tells me you are simply a know-nothing little groupie guy who cannot stand to rea/see anything that ruins his warped lil’ nostalgia trip– and I know that it kills you that I can call you on every count of this stuff.

    State your involvement, and state your name. If not, stop wasting everyone’s time….

    Oh yeah, dipshit, before I go, it does suck that this fight with you is, in fact, a waste of everyone’s time on this here board. I simply stated my words, and was prepared to let i go from there. Since then, you have done nothing but flap your ass and (apologies to everyone who slogs through this stuff), there is simply no way I can just let it go.

    Sorry to all; but, to Martin, it was you who chose to keep this going. And, every time you spit out your cowardly anonymous crap about that which you know nothing, do not be so stupid as to expect me to take a punch and not fire back.

    Sure, it would be a nice stroke of evolution if I were so advanced as to merely consider the source, and let it roll off my back; but, I cannot.

    Vehement disagreement, I can understand; rampant stupidity behind vague internet camouflage, I cannot….

    Martin, you are an idiot. Either show yourself, and say who and what you are; or just go away…..

    chris
    ([email protected])

  14. checkman:

    Your inability to understand the language does not equate with my putative cowardice. I said it before, I’ll say it for the last time:

    Facts are stupid. They are indifferent to all of your railings. If you look at what I said the first time, the second time, ot now — that’s what I meant –yes facts are stupid and obviously neither you, nor Aron’s nor anyone else can or ever will surmount that.

    As far as the use of vulgarity goes, the only thing I said that could be construed as personal was the comment about people who continued to try selling at Aron’s being idiots. Obviously that stung you and I could tell that you would aim your little popgun of obscenities at me. My point was that you never
    understood how Aron’s operated. I also knew you would be highly intolerant of anybody who disagreed with you. You’re a professional victim.

    Your responses only corroborate that. And prove once again, facts are stupid, and particularly when shoved into the presence of fools who refuse to acknowledge their existence. You don’t know how to argue — upon which I commend you that makes you a good american. I knew the first person plural would start showing up right on time– that train’s never been late.

    Enjoy your little tirades, enjoy “your” board checkman. Whether I ever deigned to respond to your scatological pronouncements, in kind or otherwise, the stupid fact remains.

    You lose.

  15. Martin,
    I simply blogged a comment onto this board. Whether you agreed or not is one thing; but once you showed your surly, expert-on-everything presence, just what was I to do? Let you blither, and leave it? Wish I could’ve; but, as I said before, if someone takes a punch at me, I will ounch back.

    Remember, Martin, my original post was intended as any sort of slam on any individual in particular– it was merely a post that while, yes, taking Aron’s to task, there was no individual agenda on someone which to slam against.

    It was you, Martin, who broght that quotient here; so do not make it seem as though I were somehow trying to construct a cult of personality “board” here. Lecture all you want, idiot; but do not distort facts, employ dribbling hindsight nor any other devices to somehow try and paint me in your colors, okay?

    Again, I simply posted my feelings about Aron’s, and did not in any way attack anyone personally. The personal attack entered this thread the very moment you did. How? Rather than resond to my post, you tried to take me down as some sort of know-nothing clown; when, in reality, all you did was expose what a hateful little shit you are.

    WAS I NOT SUPPOSED TO DEFEND MYSELF, even against the obviously lacking likes of you? Sorry, you wretched figure; but, if some asshole takes a swipe at me, I do not check first to see if they have the requisite brains to understand the beating they are about to get, whether they comprehend it or not! And, at every turn, you exposed yourself as just another internet sensationalist, willing to sell and trade in flash at the sake of substance. You have backed up not one of your arguments; and, as empty and pathetic as your first response was, it practically reads like one of the Classics incomparison to your subsequent rejoinders, wherein you have done little beside kiss Manny’s ass, call into question my use of the language, and try and repaint previous comments from yourself in a more intellectual light.

    It doesn’t wash.

    Oh yeah, your attempt at a parthian shot (how’s that for language, Martard?), by saying “facts are stupid. they are indifferent to all your railings, etc…” pretty much shows you to wear the clothes of a charlatan. All I did, from my initial posts onward, was recount the very facts, as I saw them with my own eyes: Aron’s was a shit store, populated with asshead jerkoffs who made me not want to go there ever again, so I did not; Record Rover was a great little music-oriented store that eschewed the poseur crap Aron’s embraced, but we couldn’t keep it going, etc.”

    I did NOT change the facts, nor somehow slant them in my/our direction, you useless asshole: I merely cited them, without jaundice; and, if you are defective enough to respond to that which you cannot begin to comprehend, don’t come whining to me, you silly attention-seeking groupie bitch.

    To you, facts are stupid; which kind of makes sense, considering how much you disadain them, save for the personal spin mutations you attempt to put upon them when it serves your narrow view.

    You, Martin, saw my statement of personal experience and opinion; and, somehow decided you had me so sussed out as to know just how to comment upon me. So brilliant an observer of humanity are you tht, rather than ask questions and find out with whom you are dealing, you just popped off as though you were some sort of ultimate expert on me.

    I simply first wrote here venturing an opinion based upon my personal experience. You read my words, and chose to render judgement– as though you had any kbowledge of my actual experiences there (Aron’s, Record Rover) or who I am (other than your quick superficial read of an opinion rendered by a STRANGER).

    Go on, Mr. Expert on everyone he knows nothing about; somehow spin this back to your favor! You lost this idiotic argument a long time ago; so, let’s see you go double or nothing on whether you can keep me from one day tying your taxed-out/dessicated head to my back bumper and dragging it all around town.

    I simply ventured an opinion; you jumped in, and chose to make it personal– and you id a weak-assed lousy job of it.

    Had no one responded to my intial words here, I’d have let it go. Period. I just wanted to say my bit and get out; but I have spent a good portion of my entire life opposing idiotic bullies of your ilk– stupid, warmed-over idiots who reject the idea that someone thinks unlike/against them, and choose to try and change the subject via personal attacks…..

    Believe me, Martin, at this point, I am now indulging you; but you are beginning to bore me, so you better bring a better game to the table, or just be gone.

    For the moment, until my boredom supercedes your idiocy, every last time you vent your lacking dipshit head, be well aware that it will take absolutely no effort on my part to beat you into the ground.

    It is people like you that make the internet, and sites such as this,such a bog through which to slog; and, the only reason I am not yet done with you is because I am pretty sure your worst and most stupid words are yet to come.

    I know you won’t let me down, Martin; as you are too fucking stupid to do so. This drives you, as does your ego, and the memory of Manny; so, get on with it, I say.

    I just spoke some words; but you started a fight I will be more than happy to finish. Again…..

    And again.And again….

    You brought this upon yourself, asshole….

    (and, thanks for killing the entire thread with your constant attacks…)

    go fuck yourself,
    chris

  16. although it’s tiring to read all the diatribes.. i agree with chris. the ppl who worked at aron’s were MEAN. and i don’t think sizing me up in 15 seconds had anything to do with it (cause i think i look like a nice girl!)

    their holier-than-thou attitude towards the CDs i brought in to sell for some extra cash made me feel so sad. i still can’t believe what the guy on the other side of the counter said to me: “do i WANT to look at your CDs??”

    :( so good riddance! at least the amoeba workers are nice, even over the phone. the place does have a weird smell, though.

  17. To UNSOMNAMBULIST:

    Thank you! I merely only meant to post on the whole Aron’s thing once, and wuld’ve forgotten aboyt it all were it not for Martin. TO EVERYONE HERE: I did not mean to traispe upon your time, nor anything like that; but, Martin’s ridiculous words tried to somehow imply that I did not experience that which I experienced; which totally fucking pissed me off, seeing s how that genius (far better than me that he is) never led my life– and if he had not attacked me, it would have been one of you, which means it could have been any of us…..

    To all, except for that shitbag Martin, my apologies of my seemingly longwinded posts were off-putting; but, while maybe it is immature of me, I took enough punches early on in my life, from those who mattered– to the point where anyone attempting to knock me down like that prick Martin did will get a response.

    Disagreement, I can dig; as difference of opinion does not offend me, and I realize there were those who had a great experience at Aron’s.

    Still, every now and then, we have a Martin come into our lives’ and, as much as we know we should just ignore such idiots, it an sometimes be beyond impossible.

    However moronic it might be; when a moron like him throws a dimwitted punch, sometimesyou just gotta fire back, no matter how stupid it may all seem.

    Fuck Martin, but thank you all that actually have heads, for swimming through it all…..

    chris

  18. To Unsomnambulist:
    My apologies. My previous post, wherein I expressed thanks to you, was actually intended for MR. So…

    Thanks to MR for the post of 1.12/’06 at 12.24PM, it is greatly appreciated.

    As for you, Unsomnambulist, while I thank you, and completely agree with you in your agreement with my original post; I think you have since missed the point entirely with your whole “he’s loving the attention” slant/knock.

    While it is true I can sometimes be something of a ham, I never came in here looking for validation, attention or anything of the like. I just wanted to say my bit, and that’s all– and if those who chose to differ had just written “he’s an idiot, I loved Aron’s, had a great time and I’m gonna miss it…”, none of the rest of this would have ever gone as far as it has. Yeah, I might’ve responded a bit; but, if it’s just difference of opinion, this is one thing.

    In the case of this Martin shit, it was quite another. If my original post pissed some people off, it was merely based on my own experiences (and think of them what you will; but some of us do actually live our own lives, separate from others…). Yeah, I slammed the hell out of The Cult Of Aron’s, but took no personal shots at anybody. I just said what I said: That Aron’s was a crap, hype-driven shop where every personal experience I had made me (a record store junkie) actually hate record stores, so I decided to stop going there. I didn’t read the posts of others here and knock them for their experiences and views, did I?

    Nope. Just stated my own. That was it.

    And then that headless self-appointed cultural avatar of nothing, Martin, came zooming into the room; and changed entirely the rules of the game.

    Suddenly, instead of just being a new poster here, commenting on something I experienced; I had this piece of shit prancing up to me, pretending to be an expert on me, what I’ve seen, and just try and coldcock me across the face with an old shock absorber.

    Maybe you, Unsomnambulist are more measure and mature in your response(s) than I; and I will grant you that maybe this is an issue of maturity– and will also admit that I am, apparently, NOT mature enough to ignore someone who walks up and punches me in the face, and presumes they will get away with it….

    Maybe you are mature enough (whether it happens on the internet or as you stand in line at the local burger hut) that you would respond to some stranger calling you out, pretending to be so wizened as to know you, before punching you in the yap, that your response would be something along the lines of, “I’m sorry old squire; but, you know me not, and therefore I shall turn the other cheek and give you the benefit of the doubt– as you are not only lacking in te most rudimentary of social graces, but also have no prior knowledge that my double cheeseburger is about to be served to me, and is best eaten while hot, old chap– so, well played with that whole punching-me-in-the-face thing; but, time and circumstance dictates I must now be eating…”

    Good for you if you are that advanced; but, while I didn’t seek one bit of attention here, feel free to think as dim of me as you want, just because anytime anyone, anywhere, takes a punch at me, I will dive in and punch back.

    Bookstore, sandwich shop, internet; it doesn’t matter. I’ll never level the first personally-aimed punch; but, I won’t be the mature Jesus that just takes it, either.

    Especially from such a piece of fucking shit as that Martin guy. “Attention”? No. Glory? (From the internet? come on…)

    Call me immature if you want; but, internet attention in this light is something I never wanted. Having said that, it doesn’t mean I will ever back down from an idiot….

    If you can’t dig that, my apologies for wasting your time– though you could’ve just been mature enough to either click right on by, or not respond…..

    chris

  19. Sorry, Chris, but you must have been going to a different Aron’s from the one I used to go to.

    I would go there to sell some stuff, and they would…buy some of it, and pass on some of it. I would go there to buy stuff, and they would…ring it up, take my money, and hand it to me on the other side of the counter. Occasionally they would make a comment on what I was buying…like “This is a great album” or “What do these guys sound like?” or “They played last week, did you go?”

    In other words, it was a freakin’ record store. I can’t help but wonder, then, why our experiences were so different. Perhaps it’s because I didn’t go there to get my ego validated, but rather to buy and sell music, that I somehow managed to leave there every time with some money in my pocket or some CDs and vinyl in a bag, and without getting all butt-hurt over the way the staff “treated” me. Just sayin’.

  20. IMBG,
    Like you, back when I frequented Aron’s, I just went to either buy or sell stuff. I never walked in with attitude– and given that record stores are like good weed to me, whenever I entered (before my experience soured, that is…), I always got that little heart-skipping thing I also get when I enter a used guitar store (yet another of my obsessions…).

    Please know that what I am about to write is truly, in all sincerity, about getting my ego stroked, and is merely proferred for purposes of illustration, as there has already been so much misunderstanding on this board that I (as much as I love a good nonsensical fight) merely wish to support my point, as opposed to anything else:

    Go and google search my full name. For the most part, skip over the posts written by, and attributed to, me. Instead, read what was written about me, just because of what I do. I hope you check it out– not because it’ll make you think of me as anything more than you do or do not, but because it might make sense in light of what I am about to say:

    Despite how obnoxious I might seem, on this site or others, I am a pretty private hermit-like type; yet, I have done some things that others have felt compelled to write about, in sometimes even glowing terms– which, while totally appreciated is not necessarily who I think I am, or deserve.

    If you go and read such tings, I think you’ll see that I never needed to go to Aron’s, or anywhere else, if ego validation was my goal, as it had already happened, to one degree or another.

    No, IMBG, I just went there to buy and sell shit– just as another anonymous guy trying to dump the old stuff while looking for the new (as it related to my collection); but, I certainly was never looking for the hipsters at Aron’s to validate my ego parking ticket, either. I didn’t ask for it, and certainly (if you read anything about me) did NOT need it, at all!

    I just wanted to participate in the back and forth of the commerce of it all, maybe buy a few things, and then just walk back home to my schizo-then girlfriend so she could resume grinding me don to a nub, or chuck the occasional can of shaving cream at me, etc., etc….

    Sorry, IMBG, if my tales of shit treatment at Aron’s do not jibe in any way with your positive experiences; but, what happened, happened. To me, they were utter assholes; and, I may never be able to explain why. I did not overtalk nor question their decisions on what they bought from me; and, when I was buying, I never took up too much time at the register– preferring instead to just pay and go, without talking their ears off or haggling.

    Whether buying or selling, I always kept to myself, never made a scene nor a fuss, and went practically invisible; and was still treated, every damn time, like utter shit. And, never once did I say anything along the lines of “hey, I don’t need this shit. do you know who I am?”, etc., etc.

    I just did my business (either buying or selling), and then left, just like any other customer; which is all that I was.

    Maybe they hated the tattered army jacket I wore; but, believe me, IMBG, ego validation from a record store was not what I was after.

    Just as I was not after being treated like shit by a bunch of dimwits who thought themselves oh so cool, to the point where they would just pratically spit in the faces of me and those like me.

    Ego validation? From them?

    If you can remember any of their full names, go google search them, and then search mine. I was just an anonymous customer (on purpose!), only looking for music, and never once waving my “look at me!”flag. What I needed from them was not a validation of ego, but a good and cool record store.

    WHO THE FUCK GOES TO A NEIGHBORHOOD RECORD STORE LOOKING TO FILL A PSYCHOLOGICAL HOLE IN THEIR LIFE, ANYWAY?!

    I just wanted to not be treated like shit– no matter what I wore, looked like, or had written about me.

    In the end, they were patronzing shits, posing as self-appointed expert who pretended to know what shits they were, and thought themselves utterly too cool for the world.

    Yeah, like I need such ego validation; let alone from such a pack of ready-made caricartures of wannabe hip as enacted by a throng of dimwits….

    Sure, that might seem cool to some; but, those snotty ill-equipped shits got exactly what was coming to them….

    “Ego validated”? Are you insane? Perhaps next time you might do a bit o research before simply popping off on a subject you clearly know nothing about….

    your egotistically invalidated pal,
    chris

  21. hey hey,
    yes, i too count myself among the patrons of aaron’s records that was routinely treated dismissively – nothing new there. but i did want to let everyone still reading all of this madness know that the big payback has befallen the place with a quickness.

    for one, the never-ending going out of business sale finds inventory marked down like 40%, so i’ve been walking out of there with all sorts of gems for ridiculously low prices. they’re obviously clearing out everything, and as time passes more and more (and better) stuff keeps hitting the shelves at lower and lower prices. i say take one (or maybe two) last trips through the mess – you might be surprised at what you find for like $2…

  22. Hey Me,
    Your last entry totally made sense; especially the first paragraph which ended with the line, “…the big payback has befallen the place with a quickness”…

    And, as long as they are there, I say go and find what you can for the price you can.

    Further, I must clarify a couple of earlier statements, so take this how you will: Yeah, my every experience at Aron’s was shit– the staff was snarkier than their knowledge of music allowed; they treated non-regulars like shit and looked down upon them like some sort of plague; their stock seemed, most times I was there, to be rather thin on the good stuff (but, hey!, this is just according to my taste, right?); and they always acted as though they were somehow conferring upon me some sort of great favor by looking me in the eye and trying to accomodate me and my needs.

    Truth is, I hated the fucking place, the way it was run, the way it was handled– from top to bottom; but…

    It’s still a shame it has to go; as, not only was it a neighborhood store local folks could go to– it was also one of the last examples of a true indie store, and all that represented.

    It’s passing is a shame on us all.

    Just as it is a shame that the staff seemed to take every customer for granted, and look down upon them, as though the ride would last forever; with a constantly-changing cast of new money-bearing faces willing to take shit from mopey idiots who could barely be bothered to look a patron in the eye, one way or another, as they (the children of Aron’s…) were just so fucking cool….

    Bad fucking move; sad fucking result.

    Even to me.

    Again, I hated how Aron’s treated customers (myself included). Those of us who felt the slights never needed them so suck our dicks, either. If they’d just backed off the pose a degree or two, it might’ve been enough.

    A fuking shame it is that that never happened. Maybe if it had, Aron’s might still have gone on; if customer service/relations had meant anything, that is….

    Apparently it did not. Oh well…

    chris

  23. Like, WOW. Hey Chris! I bought my FIRST record at Record Rover, Cyndi Lauper’s True Colors on 45. hell yea. I also bought my older brother’s first CD there, Rob Base (the one with “It Takes Two” on it), for his spankin new CD boom box. I loved Record Rover, they were always nice to me, even the time i walked in and asked if they new if I could find a copy of Metallica’s Garage Days Re-Visited and promptly chuckled and said, “that’s like walking nto a Chevy Dealership and asking for a Nomad!”

    I also hated Aron’s. I knew a couple people there from CalArts (not that i was a student, i just went to the parties). The one thing i liked about Aron’s was it’s size. I HATE Amoeba. That crazy flourescent giant keeps me downloading. yea, they’re nicer, yea, the lines go fast but the used prices suck and the DVD prices are laughable.

    Anyway Chris, i just wanted to share my Record Rover experience. I went to Grandview Elementary and lived on Barrington and Venice and my day care center used to be next door to the library. My brother used to tag up the buses in front of the bowling alley and we used to buy our christmas trees in the parking lot of Mar Vista Market. We moved away to the “nice” part of Mar Vista when i was 10 and then to Venice when i was 12. I was sad to see record Rover closed one day when i was on the bus going home.

    Damn- i just got all teary.

  24. Brooke,
    I just wrote you a long post back in response to yours– and then my dam shitbag laptop swallowed it up!!!!

    Fuck.

    There is nothing worse for a writer who barely knows shit about computers than to accidentally hit a button and have a half hour’s worth of blithering swallowed up like a fat kid being sucked into the belly of a shark.

    Fuck. (and to anyone here who objects to such language on such a strong level, always, again, feel free to ignore it!)

    Like you, Brooke, I was a Mar Vista local; and also went to Grandview Elementary School. From the age of 6 on upward, Mar Vista was my home.

    The bowling alley, the park, the then-dirt-field in back of the old post office, you name it, I was there. Yeah, my family also bought our Christmas trees from the Mar Vista Market parking lot.

    Thanks for remembering Record Rover like you did. Let’s face it; we were a neighborhood store– and, at least businesswise, Mar Vista wasn’t the best place upon hich to bet one’s bottom line.

    Still, while we existed, we served those who lived in our proximity well; and we all had a chance to exchange a number of ideas with the music-freak locals.

    Even though Rover could not afford to pay much, I cannot imagine a job, circumstance or work situation I will ever love more than having been there for the time I was.

    Aron’s had a chance to be a great store; but, ultimately bit ass, not because of downloading, but because they treated nearly everyone like shit. As for Amoeba, do not hate them so much. When they first came to L.A. in the Fall of 2001, I cackled my indie-store guy “fuck ’em” cackle, too. Within a year Record Rover was dead. No, not becuse of Amoeba, but because out landlord wanted to renew our lease at just under an extra $800 per month for the space we inhabited– and that was the final death blow.

    Not Amoeba, not downloading. Just landowner greed.

    In April 2003, while at Amoeba with my long-suffering girlfriend, I was looking through the vinyl almost absent-mindedly, when one of my all-time MUST FIND AT ALMOST ANY PRICE LP’s sudden;y appeared– The Steppes’ record on the Mystic label (the one with “No Names Yet For Henry” and “Kathy Maguire”).

    I’d have paid $20+ for it, easily; and yet here was a totally clean vinyl copy (with a slightly worn cover) for only $1.95!

    I almost pissed blood, and felt sure it was a mistake.

    It was not. That record, on my must find list for years, cost me less than two bucks.

    Until further notice, that earned them a big-assed “get out of jail free” card in my eyes….

    Maybe you might give them one more chance…..

    Thanks for writing, Brooke; and for reminding me why Mar Vista will always be home. Great hearing from you; and always feel free to write at [email protected], directly, too…

    best wishes until then,
    chris checkman (Mar Vistoid for life)

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