Sunday, April 5, 2009

Return echo

Mrs. KintlaLake and I just returned from her parents' house, where we all celebrated our younger spawn's birthday. Both teenagers stayed behind tonight and probably will be there most of the week. Spring vacation and all that.

From the moment that we rolled out of bed this morning, my wife and I have been throwing ourselves into packing for our upcoming move. We're as unhappy as we are exhausted. Neither of us likes what we're doing, but nevertheless it must be done.

I spent most of my day out in the barn, packing and pitching, spending little time lingering over what I was slinging into the back of my SUV. In the midst of the drudgery, however, somewhere between truckloads two and three, I did stumble onto something that made me smile.

In November's "Radio Echo," I
reminisced about the simple pleasures of AM radio.
"I'd usually dial up an Akron station or, if I got lucky (and weather permitting), I could find a strong Cleveland signal. I'd hide a small AM receiver under my pillow, listening to pop music every night 'til the Ray-O-Vacs gave out. (That probably explains why I can sing along with every top-ten tune from 1966 to 1970.)"
This afternoon I found that old GE transistor radio, stored in a worse-for-wear box of assorted objects from my childhood.

I carried it into the house, scared up batteries and installed them -- and nothing happened. Not a crackle, not a squeak, not a buzz.

Checking the battery contacts (I know, I should've done that to begin with) I found them badly rusted. Thirty seconds' scrubbing with a pencil eraser put them shiny and got the little dinosaur working.

I found a strong frequency and, with the tinny speaker blaring talk-radio blather (it was either that or religious blather), I ducked into the attic where my wife was stuffing boxes. Her reaction to my find was priceless -- let's just say that she gave me a reason to use "nonplussed" in a sentence. I shut the radio off and shuffled back to my office.

It must've been 15 minutes later when one of the spawns strolled in, so I tried to impress him with my rediscovered radio. After a suitably dramatic buildup, I turned it on -- nothing. The damned thing had sucked the life from a pair of brand-new AAs while sitting silent on my desk.

No matter -- it served its true purpose decades ago. I think I'll keep it out for a while.