I blame it all on Eric Dolphy in Berlin (Inner City). I had been collecting rock records since I was a teenager when, as a freshly minted college grad, I ran across that Eric Dolphy record in a $1.99 bargain bin. Within months I'd sold or traded most of my rock records to finance my decades-long exploration of jazz. I'm now 67, and just as thrilled to eavesdrop on the process of creation as I ever was.
I likely now have well over 5,000 jazz records, and while the pace of acquisition has slowed, I still get that same kick out of discovering new sessions and new voices.