Performer: Rush
Songwriters: Geddy Lee,
Alex Lifeson, Neil Peart
Original
Release:
Power Windows
Year: 1985
Definitive
Version:
A Show of Hands, 1989.
As I mentioned, when I lived in Herald City, I didn’t spend a
lot of money—not only because I didn’t HAVE a lot of money, but also because
most of the money I did have was earmarked to other things, including my
brain-dead video-dating membership.
That didn’t mean I didn’t buy anything, I just became
judicious with my cash. Heck, I even went to see a couple of movies for the
first time in more than a year. (I loved sitting in the front row of the
balcony at the now long-gone Golf-Mill 1-2-3.) One of my luxuries was baseball
cards.
Even when I lived in New Buffalo, I couldn’t give those up
completely, but I seriously scaled back my purchasing. It used to be, during
college, I’d buy a bunch of packs from each of Topps, Fleer and Donruss just to
have around before I’d make the inevitable purchase of all three sets when I
got home for the summer.
When the parental money well ran dry in 1988 and a fourth card-maker
(Score) got into the game, I had enough to buy a couple packs of each at the
New Buffalo drugstore. Before my transmission broke my car and finances, I made
a trip to a card show in Michigan City to buy all four sets.
In 1989, however, two more sets were added to the mix:
Bowman, by Topps; and Upper Deck, a brand-new company that charged an
unheard-of and outrageous (back then) $1 per pack. UD’s entry caused everyone
else to quickly jump up to 50 cents per pack, so I stopped buying packs completely.
An aside: This was first-hand evidence of my major contention
of how card manufacturers lost kids forever. It wasn’t that cards weren’t cool;
it was that they were too expensive to be a throw-away purchase. When cards
were 25 cents a pack, a parent could give a kid a dollar in a drugstore, and he
or she could buy four packs of cards. Now to do the same, it would cost $4. A
parent might not miss a buck, but four bucks? Handed a buck, a kid would buy
something else where he or she could get more for the money, like pogs.
Card manufacturers never got this, or at least never were
interested in getting this. After a spurt of profitability in the early ’90s
when everyone jumped on the cards-are-worth-a-lot bandwagon, the industry
irretrievably went down the drain.
Anyway, I couldn’t buy all six sets, so I had to choose. The
choices seemed obvious: Topps and Donruss. I had to have Topps, because it was
the standard-bearer; and Donruss, because it had a Ken Griffey Jr. rookie card.
Every month, there was a show at the Meadows Town Mall in
Rolling Meadows, so I went and bought my sets, but I decided at the last second
to add a Bowman set to my purchases. Bowman, of course, was a glorious old name
in collecting, and I thought that it might be worth having the first set of its
return. I dropped about $50, which was the extent of my baseball card purchases
for a while.
I then went across the street to the record store to see what
was what. So, Rush has a new live album out, huh … ?
(To be continued)
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