My dad was clearing out his attic and gave me crates, and I mean CRATES of old vinyl records dating back to 1949 (oldest I've found so far). Both 12" and 7" and a lot of classics. We filled an entire van, top to bottom moving them to my studio. I've been cataloging and listening to them on a restored antique 1920's phonograph all day. Talk about Zen, it doesn't get any better than this!
Something about the simplicity of the old days, or how simple I assume they would be since I wasn't alive, is just calming. The crackling of the static and perpetual loop of the needle stuck in a deep groove is magical.
Fuck MP3s, CDs, DVDs, BluRays, and 3D. You have to appreciate where you came from before you can really understand where you're going.
On a side note, I think he has a very valuable collection. Several crates were nothing but unopened Elvis stuff. The Elvis stuff that was opened is either playing or in queue to play on my phonograph.
