To Have and to Hold: My Vinyl Year

In most parts of this country, crossing a state line is a noteworthy occurrence. The new state announces itself with a large highway sign, and a welcome center often appears quickly thereafter. This makes living in Arlington, Virginia a bit different. Going into the “city” means entering a non-state. And, among the convoluted highways, parkways, and beltways, a wrong turn or a missed exit can land you in Maryland before you realize what happened. There was a time when crossing over from Virginia to Maryland meant leaving the Confederacy and entering the Union. A Union slave state, but still…kind of a big transition. Now you can do it by accident.  Times change. This month I found myself headed up north, just a handful of miles, to Hyattsville, Maryland. Like most of the small cities surrounding DC, Hyattsville feels very much like a DC suburb. Tucked away on a side street, next to a yoga studio and across from the Masonic lodge, is a tiny, unassuming storefront. This is Red O...