Mom's LP

Saturday afternoon, feeling unwell, I decided to stay home. While flipping through TV channels, I happened to watch the movie Jeop-sok (The Contact), which was playing. I was happy to stumble upon this iconic Korean melodrama, which I’d heard about on the movie entertainment show Banggu-seok 1-yeol. I already knew the general plot, and since it was the latter half, the movie ended quickly. I enjoyed seeing the fresh faces of Jeon Do-yeon, who looked great in green, and Han Suk-kyu, who was pathetic yet lovable. But most of all, I loved being able to feel the sensibility of that era. “This is Lee In-joo. Please leave a message.” It was an era of leaving and listening to phone voice messages, an era of enjoying music on LPs, an era of waiting indefinitely at a promised location. I watched the movie with a slightly wistful thought: if I had lived in that era, what kind of moments would I have filled my life with?

I’ve always loved the sensibility and atmosphere of old things. Looking at my mom’s LP collection neatly stacked in a dark drawer, and the turntable with a worn-out needle that couldn’t be used, I always thought I’d revive those ‘kids’ someday. Then, recently, I impulsively bought a multi-player that can play LPs, CDs, and cassettes. It was so simple and easy to bring those old LPs and CDs back to life; I should have bought it sooner. The world has really gotten better.

Seeing my mom show me how to operate the LP player was fascinating and unfamiliar. My mom always seemed like someone without much romance, but as she took out and cleaned each old LP record, it felt like she was rediscovering her lost romantic side. Looking at her LP list, full of 80s music, I vaguely imagined a woman in her twenties, before she was my mom, a person I didn’t know. What did those LP records mean to her, records she carefully packed and took with her when she married my dad 30 years ago, leaving her home and family to immigrate to a foreign country? Now, having far surpassed the age my mom was when she had me, I play unfamiliar songs one by one, feeling a sense of my young mom. I wonder if I’m like my mom, craving romance and showing a particular fondness for music. Just like Jeon Do-yeon’s confession into the phone receiver near the end of Jeop-sok, “Today, I wanted to meet you and listen to this music together,” I should have a drink with my mom on a breezy summer night and gently listen to music together.