More than 150 single records or 18 symphonies fit in one foot of bookshelf space... From the record press to the customer's purse, the 7-inch record costs less...opens a bigger market...new collectors! And those who own ordinary records now find that it takes less money to buy more pleasure. The new 7-inch record ensures you greater profit through faster turnover... NEW SYSTEM PROVIDES THE ULTIMATE IN FIDELITY In addition to extraordinary lightness, ease of handling, pleasant appearance, moderate price, the most distinct attraction held out by "45" is its phenomenally increased fidelity---due to perfect coordination between record and player and "quality zone" recording... the "45" album comes as a blessing to householders and apartment dwellers. From time immemorial the unwieldy, five-pound 78 album has been a stowage problem even in the mansion. Now artful, 7 3/8", cellophane-covered, box-type album, weighing only 6 1/2 ounces, packed with hinged lid to keep dust off records, lends itself with unostentatious charm to telescoping operations within the modern room. In an 8-foot bookshelf 144 of them can be stacked away, or 1200 records--more discs than most people will want in a lifetime.
This example is from pretty late in the 45s lifetime as a musical format, but it has its own poignancies:
Michael Jackson, on the Motown label 1972 (when he was 14)
You Can Cry On My Shoulder
Just because you know I love you so much Don't be afraid to tell me you're sad Because you lost his love Though your love is not for me I don't wanna see you in misery, so come on, baby come on Refrain You can cry on my shoulder... You can cry on my shoulder And bring all your troubles to me All your troubles to me Big girls ain't supposed to cry, If you do I'll understand, Maybe I can show you how you can win his love again It may seem strange I know But it's just that I love you So come on, baby come on Refrain You can cry on my shoulder You can cry on my shoulder And bring all your troubles to me. All your troubles to me Girl you've given him all you had He'd better stop treating you so bad, Come on babe, come on, oh yeah Refrain You can cry on my shoulder, yes you can girl You can cry on my shoulder And bring all your troubles to me, yeah babe, yes you can now Darling, ooooh, oooooooh yes, yes you can girl... I'll be there to help, You can cry, you can cry, you can cry Baby (You can cry on my shoulder) Ooooooh yeah babe, yeah babe (You can cry on my shoulder) You can cry, you can cry...Ben
Ben, the two of us need look no more We both found what we were looking for With a friend to call my own I'll never be alone And you my friend will see You've got a friend in me (You've got a friend in me) Ben, you're always running here and there (Here and there) You feel you're not wanted anywhere (Anywhere) If you ever look behind And don't like what you find There's something you should know You've got a place to go (You've got a place to go) I used to say, "I" and "me" Now it's "us", now it's "we" (I used to say, "I" and "me") (Now it's "us", now it's "we") Ben, most people would turn you away I don't listen to a word they say They don't see you as I do I wish they would try to I'm sure they'd think again If they had a friend like Ben (A friend) Like Ben (Like Ben) Like Ben
double rack-and-pinion [converts rotation into linear motion --see animation]
tropical hardwood handle
stamped metal
Yeah. A hoot. That's a good way to describe it. Looking at the 1930s world through the eyes of a European is unique--to say the least. It's definitely not for everyone, though I do like the non-textbook-ish format.
(http://www.welltrainedmind.com/k8curr35/messages/3016.html)
a blog entry from 15 March 2004: "*I love old geography books; this one has chapters on each individual European country (Great Britain, an island off the Dutch coast which is responsible for the happiness of fully one-quarter of the human race - and, no, that's not trying to be ironic) and then the rest of the world by region. It's not in terrific shape; it's a 1940 printing of a 1932 book, but should prove interesting nonetheless." (The Sardonic Subversive, http://atlas.blogspot.com/)
and another view:
Early in my bookselling career I came across a book by Hendrik Willem Van Loon titled "Van Loon's Geography." I'd never seen it before, and it had all sorts of good things going for it. By "good things" I mean specific features which seemed to indicate that it might have value. For reasons which I'll explain in detail in part II of this series, I call these flashpoints. This book had five flashpoints that I can recall:I remember driving home and looking at it on the seat next to me again and again, thinking smugly to myself, sometimes you just know when something's special. A sure winner. Boy, was I getting good at this at this book buying stuff!
- The publication date was 1932. (The importance of this will be explained in a later article.)
- It was a stated first edition.
- It had a colorful, strikingly designed dust jacket that folded out into a gorgeous color map of the world.
- There were numerous quirky, stylized color illustrations by the author throughout the book.
- The content also was quirky, or seemed to be as I glanced through it, a sort of off-beat look at the world - in fact, Van Loon had in effect created a world according to him, the kind of thing that often holds appeal to collectors years later.
Imagine my horror when I got home, logged onto Abebooks, and discovered 100's of comparable volumes offered for sale, some priced as low as a few bucks. This was especially poignant because I'd driven deep into the countryside to get the dumb thing and felt I'd totally squandered half a day's work, not to mention ten bucks worth of gas - that is, until I looked up three books I'd also grabbed almost as an afterthought at the same place: "The Greene Murder Case" (1928), "The Bishop Murder Case" (1929), and "The Scarab Murder Case" (1930), all detective Philo Vance vehicles by legendary mystery writer S.S. Van Dine (Willard Huntington Wright), all in ho-hum, predominantly black dust jackets, all printed on distinctly pulpy, low-quality paper with absolutely no illustrations, all books I'd never seen before, and worse, almost didn't buy. Later that week, of course, I was hundreds of dollars richer. And wiser.
The lesson of this story? It's not that instincts are unreliable, just that they have different degrees of refinement depending on your level of good experience. The same instincts that prompted me to pick up Van Loon's hunk of junk had previously stood me in relatively good stead, helped me find more than a few winners (yes, along with a number of losers). They weren't wrong, just not as sharp as they could have been. Don't mistrust your instincts simply because they lead you astray now and again. Expect to make mistakes. Count the time and money you spend as a silent tuition towards your degree as a master bookseller. In time, those instincts, especially if tempered with painful memories of quirky, rainbow-colored 1930's books in dust jackets, will become a precision tool.
And another:
A collectible old geography book that presented an eclectic look at the world for the general reader. It is relation to us as human beings that Henrik Van Loon explorers the cracked and wrinkled face of old Mother Earth. The discovery of a trade route, the slant of a mountain range, the curve of a river valley; we all know vaguely that these have enormous power to influence lives and fortunes. The illustrations form the most revolutionary and delightful aspect of this book. All are drawn by the author. There are about 150 of them with 22 in color. There are numerous "three-dimensional" maps. The interior of the dust jacket is said to a map of the world drawn by van Loon that is suitable for framing -- I can't verify this without pulling glued portions of protector away from pastedowns, but have no reason to doubt it. All in all, a cool book.
(http://www.talkaboutabook.com/group/rec.arts.books.marketplace/messages/218976.html)