As I write this week, I’m accompanied by a recently purchased vinyl copy of Devo's Freedom of Choice. How did this happen? I’ve feverishly been looking for a new apartment recently, pretending that if I don’t get one by midnight on October 31st, a tiny device in my brain would explode. (Which, knowing my brain lately, might happen anyway.) And when I was in my old neighborhood between the Castro and Noe Valley in San Francisco, I came across a tremendous used record and comic book store in the strangest location possible.