Getting the juke box

On a splendid rainbow-enhanced day in early April we loaded an old juke box in the car and took it north about 45 miles.

The juke box and a box of old 45's was from the early 1950's. We had picked it up, cheap, at an estate sale a few weeks earlier.

It had been in a bar in the neighboring town of Albany. Nat King Cole had one exactly like it in his house.

We weren't really in the market for a juke box, but then who is?  You would have bought it, too, even knowing that it didn't work very well. Juke boxes happen!

Turns out that one of the few juke box repair guys in the whole country lives just north of us, in Newberg, Oregon. The minute we pulled into his driveway and spotted his fabulous blue Oldsmobile we were pretty sure he was the right one for the job. "I taught my daughter to drive in this car," he said. Oh yeah!

 

His workspace, a garage, fascinated me and I took a lot of pictures.

I just love a good mess.

So many cool juke boxes, crammed in willy-nilly.

There is something about push-buttons that I find irresistible.

Love it.

Pin ball machines too!

And a second old car.

We drove our newly-repaired jukebox home (no rainbows this time), and last night I washed and dried the record collection. John gave me first choice of what to play, and it was a hard decision, but I picked "Walk Like A Man," by the Four Seasons, with "Sherry" on the flip side.

I'm gonna walk like a man

Fast as I can

Walk like a man from you

and then

Shaaay-err-y baaybee,
Sherry can you come out tonight?

Pretty cool.