"Property of Ronald Kane" by Tosh Berman

I went to Rockaway Records this week, and I purchased two albums: the late Ronald Kane owned Gavin Bryars' "The Sinking of the Titanic" (Obscure Records) and "The Joe Meek Story" (Decca).  I know this is true because there are stickers on both albums that says “The Property of Ronald Kane.”  One on the back cover, and another on the record label itself.   I may have met Ron Kane when I worked at Licorice Pizza music store chain during the 1980s.  He was the import record buyer for the entire chain, and it’s considerably possible that I met him perhaps at a Christmas party for the store, or when we had to get together for work meetings.   Then again I worked at the West Los Angeles and Reseda stores, so, for instance, I never went to their Glendale headquarters.  At least, I have no memory of going to the main offices.   That would be where Ron Kane worked, and now, I only know of him due that he passed away not that long ago.  

Ron built up his record collection over the years, and like me, it seems he has visited Japan numerous times to buy and searching out recordings.  I have my favorite record stores, but oddly enough, for the past 25 or so years of going back and forth to and from Japan, I always find a new place to shop for vinyl.  A collection is very much an activity that shows one who you are, and what your obsessions are.  It is just as truthful as if finding one’s DNA on a murder weapon - it can’t help itself in not telling some history or narrative through one’s collection of objects or things.  Ron Kane, right before he passed away, sold his entire collection of vinyl to Rockaway Records.  

Going through the new arrival bin at Rockaway, I see that Ron had a thing for European prog rock, or bands/artists that error on the side of experimental made music.  The sense of exploration on his part is awe-inspiring to me.   It would be interesting to know if he kept notes or a journal regarding his record hunts throughout the world.   What I see here is a man of intelligence and curiosity.   There are focuses on countries, such as Italy, as well as France, that put out numerous experimental/prog albums throughout the late 1960s to the mid-1970s.   When you are a fan of a particular artist or group, you become interested in what part of the world that they came from.  Which leads one to study that culture that would produce such an artist.  

I’m not the most excellent collector in the world, but I suspect Ronald Kane was one, in that he spent his life being intensely focused on the issues of records and where they came from.  The vinyl albums here in the store are all new looking.  Nothing tattered or torn, and every piece of vinyl, when I open the package seems in perfect shape.  The only alteration is the sticker with his name and that he owns the object on hand.  I often wonder why people put their names on albums.  For one, you can presume that they loan out to friends or institutions, and they want to make sure that they get their record back. Or, the essence of owning an object, you want to make sure there is some physical sense of ownership of that object.   Signing one’s name to an object or a collection is very much the same as an artist who signs their own artwork. 

So, with my memory, I’m not entirely sure if I met Ron Kane or not.  As an employee at Licorice Pizza during the 1980s, I purchased a lot of vinyl that came through the central office of licorice Pizza from the U.K.  Mostly due to the buying power of Ron through the store.  Although I never met him face-to-face or at the very least, a mere passing perhaps being in the same room together, his work had affected my record buying (with discount) adventure.   I’m a believer in museums to obtain a collection or one’s holdings.   I don’t know the number of albums owned and sold to Rockaway Records by Ron, but I have to imagine it was at the very least a few thousand titles.  As time goes by people will come to the store and more likely purchase a brilliant album with the sticker on it saying “The Property of Ronald Kane.” 

- My homage to Ronald Kane, and collecting - Tosh Berman, January 8, 2017

"Martini Teeth" by Tosh Berman

Due to my extensive dental surgery, I can only drink my dinners at this time.  My dentist suggested that since I'm already an alcoholic, I should just sip cocktails that have some food attached to it.  Which means, of course, the olive vodka martini, which is made correctly at TAIX Restaurant and bar in Echo Park.   Right between the drink and focusing on much as possible a book I brought with me to the bar, Andre Hodeir on Classical music after Debussy, it struck me how hard the bartender works, as well as the waitresses.   Personally, I have always been served well in this establishment.  I also ordered navy bean soup since it was a Thursday, and rightfully so, a Thursday which is Navy Bean Soup day.   I can never fully understand the connection between the Navy and bean soup, but I never question these things in front of a busy bartender.

I had a rough day.  I lost a temporary cap on my tooth, which makes it impossible for me to chew my food.  The thing has I had the perfect 'soft' burrito in front of me, and I felt a hard substance in my mouth, which was odd because I'm eating just a bean burrito.  I discovered it was my tooth cap, which carefully I didn't swallow, due that I put my fingers in my mouth among the bean material to remove the object.  It takes about 30 seconds to realize that something is drastically wrong, and then my temper came up.  I wanted to have a quick lunch before I shot my "Tosh Talks" episode on Jean-Luc Godard's film soundtrack music.  I was in such a state that Lun*na wanted to know if I want to postpone the filming.   I said go on.  Strange enough, I think this is the best "Tosh Talks" show ever.  Lun*na mentioned that my voice was loud and very clear.  I think all of this was due to my anger of losing the temporary cap.

After the show, I contacted my dentist who told me, even though she's on holiday, to come to her office at 5:30 this afternoon.   I did and met her at the parking lot because it seems the front door was shut due to construction work on the building.  I was a concern because when a car approached the parking lot, I didn't want to think whoever in that car thought I was a perv waiting in the darkness.   Luckily in the vehicle was my dentist and her almost adult daughter.  She took me through the back entrance which led to the employee's kitchen and sometimes storage room for outdated customers with their x-rays of teeth.   The whole dental office was under construction or remodel job of some sort, and therefore I didn't have to go to the dental chair, but the kitchen chair in the employee's room.

When I lost and obtained my temporary crown, I was immediately impressed with the horrible scent of my cap. It smelled like a dead rodent in my crown, but the fact is, my tooth, as busted as it was, felt like the dead animal lived there under a witness protection secrecy program from the Department of Justice.   Still, I was fascinated with the wretched scent of my cap, and wondered if perhaps all tooth caps smelled the same way?  

I sat down among the wires, plastic coverings, and industrial dust in their kitchen area.  Luckily I didn't feel any pain, but just awkwardness in chewing and my self-regard concerning my face.  I thought I had a vacancy between my mouth and everyone looking at me will be aware of my ugliness.   Ever since I was a young boy, I felt like an alien because other kids my age would comment on my oddly shaped teeth.  It wasn't until I reached into my 60s when I decided to get my teeth fixed. The irony is, I will probably be dead before the work is finished.   Still, a corpse with a good mouth is something people will remember me by. I'm just hoping that the casket will be open during the funeral procedure.

As I left the dentist office, I became more aware of how vulnerable I'm to other's opinions on my physical appearance. To dwell on the negativity is an endless amount of ocean of regret.  I choose to go into the darkness of the night and gently chew whatever is out there.

- Tosh Berman, Los Angeles, January 2, 2018