Old Turntables New Folks

We’re pretty big into music around here, and we’re pretty old-school-type audiophiles. We have an iPod (one of the old iPod minis that Kristen got when she bought a Mac about 6-7 years ago) that we don’t really use and we occasionally hook up the computer to our stereo. Most of our music is on CDs, tapes (me mostly), and vinyl. We have lots of vinyl (courtesy of various former grad school teachers who wanted to unload their collections. I’d say a good half of the records we have are in closets because we just don’t have enough shelving for them all (which we’ll hopefully fix in the near future when I build a stereo cabinet). You can see our somewhat sad stereo table here. The point being, we listen to lots of vinyl, some old and some new. We’ve had a USB turntable for a couple of years that works pretty well considering how inexpensive it was and how ugly it is.

Pretty much since we got the USB TT, I’ve been planning on getting a good quality, vintage TT. Since we don’t live in a big city, or really near one, most of my vintage audio shopping happens on eBay. You can imagine the problems involved, but you won’t have to, I’m going to tell you all about them.

My search for a vintage TT has so far been pretty sad. As of this writing, I have 4 TTs here at the house, only one of which gets used. (This is where you start to think I’m a little off. Maybe I am. Actually, I am a little off, partly foolish, and completely impatient. And so I now have 4 TTs) The problem has been that the TTs I’ve gotten on eBay have arrived with various degrees of problems that either weren’t explained in the listings or I didn’t know to look for them before I won the auctions.

Here’s the rundown on the TTs I’ve bought, what’s keeping me from using them, and what I know now to look out for when I (obviously) buy the next one.

1. Sansui SR 212

This TT I bought about a year ago and is, according to audiophile forums, a pretty decent 70′s Japanese TT. It has a suspended platform for the platter that is supposed to help keep the records from skipping if the TT is jostled. It’s a belt driven TT, and it has a counterweight on a string substituting for the little anti-skate dial usually found next to the tonearm (although the TT I got didn’t come with this counterweight). Plus it looks bitchin’ with its fake wood base.

The Problem: When I set this TT up and tried out a record, the speed was off. The record played noticeably slower than it should have (I figured out that it spun at about 31-32 rpms instead of 33, which turns out to make a big difference). The belt was supposedly new, and I oiled the parts that needed oiling, and still 31 rpms. Something on the inside just isn’t getting the speed right. Trying to find someone locally who understands this problem and can actually fix it has been impossible so far.

2. Sanyo TP 727

I picked this TT up about a month or so ago, and when it came in, everything seemed great. It played at the right speed and it sounded good. Until it got a couple of tracks in and the needle and cartridge (the part the needle is attached to) started to drag on the record.

The Problem: I realized that the tonearm was missing its counterweight. Clear as day and I didn’t even notice. Trying to find a counterweight for this particular model has also, so far, been impossible. So I strung up the counterweight from the USB TT and it seems to play fine (even though I know this is not very good for my records).

3. Yamaha YP D6

The most recent TT I bought I just knew would be the one that worked. The listing seemed pretty sound, it clearly had the counterweight, and it was reported to play great. Also, it has the nice fake wood base I like so much.Then I got it set up and Kristen noticed that as the records played, the platter (where the record actually sits) kind of wobbled.

The Problem: Come to find out, the platter is warped slightly, and the spool that the platter sits on is crooked. So technically it plays the records, but there’s a bump every revolution that messes with the sound and probably puts more pressure on the needle than it should have. Bad things.

Here’s what I’ll be looking for the next time I buy a vintage TT. First, I’ll make sure that it has all the parts (e.g., counterweights) that is should have. Then, I’ll make sure to ask the seller questions about the playing speed, if the belt is new, and if the platter spins level. Also, and I learned this after the first TT, I’ll make sure to only buy a TT that can be returned. The Sansui was sold as-is, the Sanyo I could have returned, but apparently it cost more to ship it than I payed for it, so the seller just told me to get rid of it and gave me my money back. The Yamaha is due to be shipped back this week.

If you’re looking to get an old TT, and are looking on eBay, that’s awesome. But you should be a much more inquisitive and patient to make sure you get one that’s worth the money and actually works. (Remember that I’m basically Veruca Salt when it comes to buying these things. That’s right, I’m not above dropping a Willy Wonka reference.)

I’ll let you know how the next TT works out–it shouldn’t be too long now.

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Laundry Scrub

 

Anybody else a huge TLC fan back in the day? In so many ways, not the least of which is the whole washing machine scrubs our clothes thing, the laundry room is a scrub. For one, it is pretty much a mess (“I’m lookin’ like class, and he’s lookin’ like trash”). For two, it is always on the outskirts of rooms we love to hang out in (the kitchen and the addition) begging for attention but never receiving any (“hangin’ out the passenger side of his best friend’s ride, tryin’ to holler at me”). You get the point. We’re not so nuts about the laundry room and basically have left it exactly as it was when we moved in. That is, until we realized what a huge difference removing some ugly shelves and wall pegs could make. The laundry room needed some TLC (ahem). Actually, it still needs some, but we’ve given it a little love to tide it over.

So, here’s what we started with.

 

 

Tons of glass shelves on metal brackets, a million pegs and drying racks, and a bazillion nails and screws. Not one less. A bazillion. Seriously, ever get Ed started on the number of random nails and screws in our walls, and his head might explode.

So, here’s what we did. First, we took down all the pegs and nails.

Next, we took down all the glass shelves but one. Then, we wiped down the one shelf we were keeping and put away all the items we had been storing on the dryer. Then, we removed the blinds and hung a cute curtain I found on clearance at Belk awhile back ($8!). Here’s our less-of-a-scrub laundry room now.

Way better, huh?

For those who like a good laugh, here are the demolition counts:

  • 6 glass shelves
  • 15 metal brackets
  • 4 wooden pegged drying racks
  • 1 wooden peg randomly stuck in wall
  • 50+ screws and nails, most with nothing attached to them (for Ed’s collection)
  • 2 huge metal hooks
  • 1 metal plant hanger (???)
  • 1 set of blinds
Kind of a big trash heap for such a tiny space (roughly 9×6 ft) that is mostly taken up by a washer, dryer, and utility closet. Oh, and we found this tucked way back on a shelf.
That stuff is clearly decades old, and we’re not so into poison pellets just lying around our house, so this went in the trash. I suppose it counts in the demolition tally as well. Isn’t the drawing of roaches munching on tablets just plain gross? I sure think so.Getting back to the laundry room, we still have quite a lot to do in here.

Specifically:

  • Frame out the breaker box and maybe create a disguise (like a picture collage, cork board, chalkboard, etc.)
  • Remove the old mirror and light on the wall (see in the second picture above)
  • Add new light fixture overhead (isn’t visible in pictures but is just a bare bulb)
  • Hang cabinet for detergent, etc. (we have a spare in the spare bath that may work perfectly)
  • Remove last glass shelf (or maybe get something more attractive and keep?)
  • Organize utility closet (whew, it’s a mess)
  • Remove wall to combine with kitchen (?)
  • Add baseboards that aren’t rubber (Yikes!)
  • Replace flooring
  • Paint paneling (?)
  • Add wall shelving for cookbooks, so we can get rid of bookshelf taking up precious floor space
  • Build cabinet with countertop for folding to house washer/dryer (? Will require new washer/dryer purchase)
It’s a lot, I know, but just removing the pegs and nails made a huge difference. It’s now decent, which is more than we could say before. Funny how those little changes that take all of 30 minutes can make a big difference. Why, oh why, did we live here 2 years with ugly drying racks tacked up all over our walls?

 

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Replacing A Door Seal in Five Minutes

We’ve had lots of issues with doors lately (e.g., dishwasher doors and screen doors), and there’s one last door fix to talk about: replacing the rubber door seal. A few weeks ago, the rubber threshold seal in the doorway out of our panel room split and basically just didn’t work as a seal anymore.

you can see where it split in the middle. this made the top half pop up and keep the door from closing.

After a while of living with the seal kind of flapping up when we’d go outside, I decided to just pull it up altogether. Then after another while of living with no seal at all (so that we could see a little light coming in beneath the door (but not in a creepy Poltergeist way)), I went to our local hardware store to get a replacement seal.

I had a bad feeling that the store wouldn’t have what I needed, or that it’d take me forever to find it. But I got lucky. In the section for doors and flooring, there was a rack with lots of different metal thresholds and some seals. The store just happened to have the exact same seal that had split on us. (I took the busted seal with me, which I’ve learned that if you need a part of most any kind, you should take the part you’re replacing or the part that will connect to it with you to the store.) The new seal just needed to be cut to size.

After I cut the seal to match the busted one, all there was to do was fit it into the slot on the threshold. The package said to snap the seal in place, but there was not any snapping going on that I could tell. It was more like mashing the seal into place. Poor word choice aside, the seal took all of (once again) five minutes to install.

Now our door to the backyard is sealed up and keeping all our nice AC inside the house.

PS. You can read about our other five-minute fixes here and here.

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Roadside Sofa

Remember when I wrote about our FLOR update (here and here) and mentioned that our after picture wasn’t quite accurate because we have replaced the couch? Do you also remember when I said I’d post about that couch? Well, I’m finally following through on my promise.

To get us started, here’s an after picture of the FLOR update/before picture of the couch update. Two for the price of one.

So there are a few things wrong with this situation:

  1. You can’t really tell from the picture, but the loveseat has some pretty serious upholstery problems. Ripley found it a perfect chew toy when she was a puppy, and the zipper on one of the cushion covers has popped, allowing the foam to pop out the back sometimes (hence, the strategically placed pillow).
  2. It’s old. This is usually not a problem for me, but 40-or-so-year-old upholstery is a little ick.
  3. It’s too small for the space. 1) It’s in front of a huge window that spans most of the wall, and 2) it’s in our #1 hangout-and-watch-TV room but is too small for proper lounging.
Enter new couch. While driving from work to yoga one evening, I passed by one of the second-hand stores in our town. This particular store has outgrown its building and is now utilizing the parking lot to display some merchandise. And I don’t mean artfully displaying a few pieces on the sidewalk, I mean like 10 mattresses propped against the building and random other furnishings outside at all times. Truth be told, it’s kinda junky looking, but it is nice for drive-by shopping, which is what I did this particular day.

As I was driving by, I saw a couch that mimicked one of my favorites–the mid-century modern tufted-leather sofa. I just had to stop and check it out. She wanted $75, which is a steal for any sofa in my book, but everybody knows you don’t pay full price at yard sales, and this was more like a yard sale than an actual store. I bargained to $65 and got delivery for $5, so I ended up paying $70 for the sofa. It’s probably best that I admit I thought it was leather and later found out it’s imitation, but as a friend pointed out, now I have a vegan sofa, which makes my vegetarian self happy. Unintentional ethics never hurt, right? Anyway, on to the sofa. It has a flaw, one popped seam.

It’s a pretty decent patch job, but I’m hoping to get an upholster to fix it for real. All in due time. Here is the after shot.
Despite the lack of light in the picture, this is much better, right? I think so. I can lay out and watch TV, and it fits the window perfectly, I think. Also, see that cute E.T. t-shirt pillow? I bought it from my crafty friend Selena, who blogs here and has an Etsy shop here.

What happened to our old loveseat? Well, we’re not sure quite what to do with it right now. I’ve always wanted to reupholster it one day, but we don’t really have a great place to put it. For now, it’s living on the wall to the right of the window.

Please ignore that it isn’t centered under the map frames (one of the few things we managed to hang before last week). It may end up on craigslist or the local consignment shop. Or it may end up with some funky 1970s-inspired fabric, hearkening back to its youth. Who knows. For now, it takes up space and occasionally seats someone.

What do you think? Isn’t the brown, fake-leather sofa so great? Any fabric suggestions for the old green loveseat?

 

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Scantily Clad Is Better Than Nekkid: A Wall Update

Last week, I wrote about our bare walls. I called them “nekkid,” which perhaps is a bit harsh, but the truth’s the truth, right? Well, we are trying to help our poor walls be a little more, um, lady like.

We found our home’s original blueprints and took them to a local frame shop. First, a word on the blueprints. The oldest were quite obviously used. With paint splotches and smears and deep creases, these were not created for aesthetic purposes. The pencil markings all over them also gives away the fact that they were used for note taking and brainstorming. Some people would probably not like the used look, but we think it’s great. As a general rule, we favor authentic and lived-in over shiny and pristine. Also, we weren’t framing art but history–okay, it’s after 5:00, and, therefore, too late for smarty-pants talk. Basically, we were super excited to find a piece of our house that long pre-existed us but that is now a part of us. You know, that whole thing about our blog name.

So back to the blueprints. The oldest are dated 1950, and our house was built in 1956 (we think; there’s a little debate about 1956 or 1957, but most signs point to 1956). Anyway, that’s six years of going back and forth over plans, and the many Veterans Administration stamps prove that these prints did just that. The back of the prints were full of VA stamps verifying receipt. Why does this matter, well for one, we now know that our home’s first owner (and only other than us) was a WWII veteran, which makes me think of my grandparents and what type of life the previous owner was returning to after war. I can get nostalgic in a flash, and these stamps almost sent me over the edge. If you want a brief history of the VA home loan’s beginning, check out this short article.

So, we had one set of prints dated 1950. And one not dated (for the addition). Grrr. Luckily, with the blueprints, we were left a set of pictures of the addition being built, and those are dated. Whew. My investigative self just might have exploded otherwise. The pictures are dated 1991, meaning the blueprint was probably drawn up in 1989 or 1990. The 1950′s prints are the old-timey kind on heavy blue paper with white lines. The 1989-ish print is on light-weight white paper with purple lines. Both appear to be done in some sort of carbon-copy way.

I suppose that’s enough blabbing, though. We hung those suckers! Truth be told, they were propped for three days. You know my problem with propping, right?

Just in case you’re a newbie to hanging things correctly (as opposed to just throwing up a nail and dangling the frame from it–my usual MO), here’s how we did it.

First, Ed held up the frame, so I could see where I liked it. Then I used a pencil to make a mark where the corner was.

Next, Ed measured the length of the frame, and we marked the half-way point on the wall. Then, we measured the distance from the top of the frame to the wire. Then, Ed nailed in the frame hook about an inch higher (to account for the size of the hook).

Then, we put it up on the wall and straightened.

Easy peasy (Ed hates that phrase. I love it.). Here’s what the wall looked like before (completely naked).

And here’s what she looks like now (from a different angle, due to a glare).

Not a lady yet, more like a woman who just got a boob job wearing a string bikini. Her skin (aka, the wall) is bustin’ out all over the place, but at least her nipples are covered. Did you just cringe? So sorry. We’re workin’ on it. Once we fill in around the frame, she’ll be ready for high tea with the Queen. Or at least a mint julep at the Derby.

We decided to hang the 1950s print in the den (aka, the paneling room) because we thought it fit the vintage feel of the room. We hung the addition’s print, appropriately, in the addition. Two rooms on their way to recovery.

Oh, and if you’re into numbers and such, you can check out the pricing info here.

What’s going up on your walls? Anyone else found their blueprints and had them framed?

 

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