So, I thought I would throw in my two cents worth here.
When I was growing up in Florida, I actually did dig through crates of records. The only record store within a 50 mile radius of where I lived kept their albums in old orange crates (the fruit, not the color). So I would say I have been an accidental crate-digger. I've never been part of the strict definition of crate digging because I've never bought records to sample.
There are no record stores near where I spend most of the year now. That one store I mentioned above closed its doors back in the late 90s and there's just not a big enough market here for another one to have ever taken its place. When I travel, I still make it a point to visit any store I run across that sells records, though, and I almost never leave empty handed. I do have a wantlist on Discogs to get alerts when a record I've been looking for for a long time goes up for sale, but when I visit a physical store, all bets are off as to what I'm going to end up buying.
I tend to fit in the loosest definition of crate digging. I know it's kind of heresy to say this on a forum dedicated to record collecting, but the format isn't that important to me. I still dig records, and I certainly still buy every album I can on them, but I never gave up on my CDs or tapes, either. And sites like Bandcamp are like manna from heaven to me. I can spend hours at a time just checking out everything under the sun there.
Personally, I think this is the golden age of being a music collector. Yeah, I could join the chorus of bitching about prices being too high, people calling them "vinyls" instead of "records," and how the pressing plants are clogged up with backorders of colored variants by the latest flavor-of-the-week hip artist. But honestly, I can't be bothered to get myself worked up about any of that. Here I am, living in a world I never could have imagined back when I was a kid buying my first Lester Young LP. I can be connected to music from all over the world just by tapping my keyboard a few times. I can put thousands of hours of music on a device the size of my wallet and carry it with me wherever I go. I can turn on the satellite radio in my car and choose from hundreds of stations... Whatever I want is at my fingertips, whenever I want it. I still love my records, but I try to always remember that my younger self, scrounging his way through those musty old orange crates, would have thought all of this was nothing short of miraculous.
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