My first love was interesting and inviting, occasionally standoffish, kind of weird and more than a little disorganized.

Cut Corner Records on South Limestone Street in Lexington, Ky., CD had shelves that stretched up and down the walls for miles. Or at least it seemed so when you were at the “A” section with the intent of flipping through grubby discs until you reached “Z.”

The shelves were usually either overstuffed or understocked, and spilling out of their neat little rows to create a jagged landscape of cheap plastic corners. I’m sure the shop’s clerks straightened up occasionally, in between ignoring customers and disdainfully helping those who dared approach with a question. (At Cut Corner, at least, the stereotype of the grouchy record-store clerk was true.)

I was 15 when I first started going to Cut Corner, which was nestled among bars, head shops and a pool hall on the north side of the campus of the University of Kentucky. Despite its drawbacks, it didn’t take me long to get hooked on the act of shopping for records.

And I do mean hooked. It’s an addiction that afflicts me even today, despite the onset of digital music services like Spotify, Pandora and the like.

The main thing I remember about Cut Corner is that they had an extensive selection of bootleg CDs purportedly from Italian record labels that were filled with rare Nirvana tracks, each at the unseemly price of $34.99. It was a number that gave me, even with my disposable income and Cobain obsession, pause.

In 1998 (or was it ’99?), Cut Corner closed, to be replaced shortly by another record store, CD Central, and its wider selection, lower prices and friendlier staff. By then, I was in college and living two blocks from the place, which is why, when the time comes, I will explain to my now-2-year-old daughter why Daddy can’t help pay for her college education.

Seriously, a few years ago, I went through a storage box and got rid of lots of old checkbook registers. The amount of money (and time) I spent at CD Central over the years is astonishing, and you can find the evidence stacked in milk crates all over my garage.

Since then, I’ve traveled and moved around, and I’ve had flings with lots of other wonderful shops: Phonoluxe in Nashville and ear X-tacy in Louisville, Ky. Sonic Boom in Seattle. Vacation Vinyl, Origami Vinyl and the incomparably huge Amoeba Music in Los Angeles. That place near Washington D.C. that sold me one of my favorite albums, The Push Kings’ “Far Places,” but whose name I shamefully can’t remember.

And, of course, Portland has lots of great record stores, like Exiled, Mississippi, Jackpot and the venerable Music Millennium.

I wouldn’t say CD Central is the best of all those. But it’s probably still my favorite.

Nowadays, my local is Ranch Records on Wall Street in downtown Bend, a place that has embraced the necessary diversification of record stores in the 21st century (you can buy incense, headphones, posters, trinkets, DVDs, etc., etc., in addition to music), as well as the current surge of interest in vinyl records, LPs, or whatever you want to call ’em. The things you (or your parents) used to place on record players.

Ranch’s vinyl section has expanded greatly in recent years. I love that. It makes this survivor of the music industry’s digital bloodbath feel even more old school.

I also love hanging out there. To me — and I know fewer people feel this way these days — record stores are a great place to hang out and learn, from the local show flyers on the wall, the music being played over the loudspeakers, or the clerks, who are often just as geeked about music as I am.

As I’ve said before, I strongly believe an independent, locally owned record store that offers local bands’ music and other stuff you won’t find at big chains is a vital part of a healthy music scene. Bend used to have two, until Boomtown closed in 2008.

Now, Ranch Records is the only store in Central Oregon participating in the fifth annual national Record Store Day on Saturday, a day set aside to celebrate the unique culture of indie stores, according to www .recordstoreday.com. Expect rare CDs and vinyl, live music (see “If you go”), snacks, surprise deals and giveaways, and a convivial atmosphere.

It’ll be a scene worth unplugging for a day, I’m sure of it. And hey, maybe you’ll walk out with arms full of new music and think to yourself, “Maybe every day should be Record Store Day!”