My mom and pop had the party house. We had a makeshift wall unit made out of straight plywood. It was crates of records, then plywood, crates of records, plywood, crates, plywood. Al Green, Prince, Stevie Wonder, the Jacksons, everything. My mom had early rap rec­ords, like Jimmy Spicer. In the middle of the records was a turntable and a receiv­er – I used to scratch records on it – and on top was a reel-to-reel. In front of that wall were more stacks of records. It was either Mom’s record or Pop’s record, and they had their names on each and every one. Ha! Back then, I couldn’t under­stand why they shared an apartment and kids, but they couldn’t share records.