Stuck in the middle

  I was crate digging long before the record collecting hipster who coined the term was born. When record emporiums were knocking out chart singles at 40p, I used to slide down to my local market on a Saturday morning and trawl through the boxes and boxes of ex-jukebox singles. Here, for 25p, was a world of 45s that had been playing in pubs on their record machines before they were usurped by the latest batch of single releases; out with the old, in with the new.

  The fact that they didn't have middles was of no concern. Adaptors could be bought for tuppence each and came in all shapes and sizes.

  It being a Sunday, having started something of a tradition this time last week, I've tried to commit to canvas a few of these small but perfectly formed appendages.
  And, just for good measure, I've chucked in a couple of videos. The first one was what Gerry Rafferty had in mind when he wrote Stuck in the Middle with You. It's followed by Quentin Tarantino's now infamous interpretation of same.