My brother calls me right before my birthday in November and says, “You’ll never guess what I have.” He was right. I couldn’t guess. He told me he’d gotten a turntable and was able to play some of his old records. He asked if I had kept my records and I said, “They are somewhere around here.” I had a feeling they were in the garage and if the mice hadn’t eaten them (or sold them to their music-savvy relatives), then I still had them. For my birthday, he gave me a turntable. After doing a little sleuthing, I found out that my brother, Gary, had given me his turntable…