by Greg Fox
Evelyn’s most valuable possession was her antique Victrola. She’d found it in a garage sale as a freshman in high school and spent fifteen years of allowance money on it, just because it looked pretty. And it was a beauty. It was hand cranked with a brass sound horn, and the box was made of stained, polished oak. However, in the fifteen years since then, she had never gotten around to buying any records.
But with their tenth wedding anniversary approaching, Josh had decided to do something about that. A friend at work was looking to sell his grandmother’s collection of antique 78s. He had all sorts of show tunes and jazz crooners that Frank knew his wife would love. But it was also expensive.
On the morning of their anniversary, Josh led Evelyn into the living room where she found a dozen boxes all filled with records.
“How did you afford this?” she asked.
“You know my dad’s old 69 Camaro? I knew I’d never get it running again, so I sold it. Now you would have records to play.”
“Oh, honey,” Evelyn said, “you shouldn’t have. You see, I sold my Victrola to buy myself an iPod Touch.