Columbia House — the closest thing the '80s had to Spotify. For pocket change (a dollar, sometimes just a penny), you could score a fat stack of new albums ... never mind the fine print about buying more later at full price!
I obsessed over those dense, full-page ads I always found in our weekly issue of TV Guide. I'd grab a pencil, circle my dream picks, even fill out the order form with all the product codes, as if one day the envelope might magically mail itself.
After much lobbying, my sister and I finally got the green light from our parents. Our starter haul looked like this:
But the thrill didn't last. In 1982, we were still vinyl kids, and cassettes were quickly taking over. The need for portability eventually won, and those records sat untouched in our den until my parents unloaded the whole collection at a garage sale — including some original issue Beatles classics — to some vulture who probably flipped them for a tidy profit. Still, I was hooked. I rejoined Columbia House (and its knockoff cousin BMG) again and again over the years to pad my music library.