by David Morgan
WHEN YOUR PAST COMES BACK TO HAUNT YOU. Yesterday I found 4 large boxes of vinyl LPs outside a block of flats just down the street. Two eager fossickers - a man and woman apparently in their 20s - were already going through them and picking out their favourites.
When they were finished, I had a look. What I found was disturbing. No fewer than 12 of them were ones I already had, all dating from 1974 - 1986. (This includes the embarrassing ones.) And there were 3 more where, though I didn't have them, I had other albums by those artists.
And which ones did I take? No, that could be embarrassing too.