Why do I pick a rockin' house party as the time to bring out my near mint original copy of Speakin' my Piece? "Yeah, Nat, flip it over" (yes, that's me directing a completely unknowing partygoer to stop my Thorens TD160, take off the record, switch it, and start it again). "Whoops!" "What?" Yes, Speakin' My Piece lands on the slate floor, and the offending party, reaching to grab it (five second rule?) actually STEPS ON IT, and it slides, underfoot, four feet across the floor.
WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF was I thinking?
Led to the institution of the following rule: no drinking and playing.
Damn.