Dead Suburbanites Send their LPs to Goodwill

You know it and I know it.  The kids have no respect for their parent's old record collections. There's nothing you can do about it.  Just like that guy whose face was eaten off by a cannibalistic zombie - he didn't see it coming and he had no way out.  I go to the local Goodwill, on occasion, to get bargain deals and scrap with locals about who saw a particular plastic veneered dresser first (it apparently wasn't me).  Defeated, I go the record cart next to the used books and cassette tapes.  The selection is always terrible and depressing (as well as the smell), but it doesn't stop me from holding out hope for a better "this time."  Undoubtedly, the rack is stocked with Lawrence Welk and Herb Alpert records, sometimes worse.  Often there's a Neil Diamond record in there which I believe is usually gobbled up by somebody that's on their death bed; I'll see the same record again in 3-5 months.  Recycling.

After maybe 2 years of this observation, I finally made a couple of very simple conclusions: a) white suburbanites listen to terrible music and b) white suburbanites listen to really terrible music.  At the end of the day, the Goodwill graveyard is better than any other, even those in which the deceased owners have been laid to rest in sealed embalming fluid poison boxes.  It's like sealing nuclear waste in a salt mine: it will be safe until fairly speedy (with respect to the scale of time) geologic changes cause vast radioactive contamination.   There's some analogy there which I'm sure you can pick up on.

Once I got a new blender from Goodwill for a pretty good price.  Value.