The desktop computer I’ve used for the last six years finally went kaput yesterday. It had been running on hopes and prayers the last few months, but 2026 was the year the thing finally said no more. QEPD.

I started to use a new computer earlier today, but 21st-century technology is a struggle for my stubbornly analog mind to grasp at times. After a while, I needed to get some air, so I went thrifting with my wife.

We still have a few record stores in Los Angeles (the “vinyl renaissance” shops don’t count in my mind) where classical CDs can be found, but some of the best finds I’ve had in the wild in the past decade have been at thrift stores. This disc is one of them: a private press CD of Abbado conducting Beethoven 9 in Lucerne back in 1998. (A good year, by the way. I had more hair, Pasadena’s short-lived meikyoku kissa was still around, and my wardrobe was filled with stylish duds from Aaardvark’s Odd Ark.) This performance doesn’t appear to have been reissued. Haven’t listened to it yet, but it scratches a two itches: my ongoing reevaluation of Abbado’s discography and my longstanding interest in niche private-press CDs. How did this end up at a random thrift store deep in the suburbs?