Execute the cloth or fire your cleaning lady

My records suddenly sounded distorted and scratchy, so I called my dealer. He tolerated me for about five seconds. Then he told me to either execute the cleaning cloth or fire my cleaning lady.

He was right about the cloth, and I was not ready to hear it. Once I found the bent needle under magnification, I did what any panicked audiophile would do. I got in the car in my pyjamas and drove to the dealer.

He confirmed what I already knew. A new stylus and cantilever would take weeks and cost almost as much as a new cartridge, and the cartridge is a high percentage of the turntable for such a tiny part. I nearly fainted for a second time, right there in the store.

And you know what? I still left with music. I needed my records back, so I bought a cheap temporary replacement for a few hundred dollars while I worked out what to do. A dealer who diagnoses you in five seconds and still sends you home with a cartridge is a dealer worth keeping.

The best dealers tell you the truth before you are dressed for it. Mine did, and I was in pyjamas.