I bought my first Rolling Stones record for 50 cents in the used record bin at the Book Nook in Smyrna, GA when I was 8 years old. It was 1977. Also the year the first Apple computer came out, the year that Star Wars forever changed the movies.

The Book Nook was a store my sister frequented to get her fill of the trashy romance novels she'd escape through while she worked and finished college. My mom, brother and I had road tripped back down south for her graduation. The Rolling Stones, like The Beatles, have been in my life for as long as I can remember, at least since I learned to walk. A friend of mine has a theory that we’re born knowing the lyrics to their songs, so deeply are they embedded in the collective consciousness. Like they’re part of our DNA. In any case, my sisters used to put them on and we’d dance around the house and sing every line. Love, love me do you know I love you. I’ll always be true so pleeeeeeease, love me do!

I found myself in the Book Nook that day, looking through the record bin, when I was struck by what still feels like this lightening bolt. It was The Rolling Stones High Tide and Green Grass. I think what grabbed me first was the photo album included in the original London Record’s pressing. Mick smoking a cigarette, Keith with those blue hippie sunglasses and that surreal picture on the back cover of the band in the middle of the forest dressed as if they’re all going to a night club. All so weird, all so fantastic, all so Me.

As soon as I saw Satisfaction on the track list I had to have it. I already knew the lyrics (see above), and I also knew that if I had the album I could actually have my own intimate relationship with them, independent of who was playing what on the radio, and independent of my sisters. Wow! That riff! That beat! My own dance party! When I’m watching my TV and a man comes on and tells me how white my shorts could be. But he can’t be a man ‘cause he doesn’t smoke the same cigarettes as me...

That trip was notable for a bunch of things, including my sister’s huge achievements and also my mom losing control of the car on the way down, almost driving us all off a cliff. We (obviously) lived. Nevertheless, what stays with me the most is that moment of me taking my first solo step into a rock 'n roll life, albeit on a different type of stage.

I still have the album. “McCaffrey” is written with a black ink pen on the red paper label on the record itself. So sloppily scrawled I’m guessing it was a guy. Thank you Mr. Mcaffrey. Thank you for giving me a lifelong dose of Satisfaction… and all it cost me was 50 cents!