Radio Daze

This week's east coast blizzard had some wonderful consequences for me here on the west. My friend Harry was snowed in for a couple of days. To be snowed in at Harry's house is like being trapped inside the worlds greatest magic museum and oddity emporium. Harry has great stuff and a good eye for finding and acquiring the interesting, the bazaar and the unique. In addition to his own collection he was proprietor of two shops in New Orleans, SideShow and Spade and Archer which sold all kinds of unusual items; most of which ended up moving with him after he closed both shops and left New Orleans.

I remember Harry telling me about the girl from the moving company in New Orleans who came to submit an estimate. She said to Harry, "What's in that crate?" He replied, "A guillotine." She paused and said, "That would be the first guillotine we have ever moved.... what is in the case next to it?" Harry again replied, "That's my other guillotine." With out missing the beat she said, "That would be the second guillotine we have ever moved." You get the picture....

So... Harry, being snowed in, is going through unopened boxes and comes across some vinyl 33 1/3 record albums of ventriloquism that he didn't know he had. There was some Bergen, and a couple of Jimmy Nelson albums, and a Ricky Lane album that I didn't know even existed. He called me to say he is sending me the records, for my birthday... which is 6 months away. Then he said, "You have a turn table to play them, right?"

I have three mini-disc recorders, four audio cassette player/recorders, six different models of ipods, CD, DVD, VCR - VHS and BETA player/recorders, two micro-cassette player/recorders, a laser-disc player and a 1972 reel to reel quarter inch video tape player/recorder, BUT, the last time I saw my turn table it was sitting next to my large reel to reel audio tape recorder which I know I sold.

I told Harry I would figure a way to transfer the vinyls somehow. Harry said, "You don't transfer recordings, you listen to them... get a turntable and listen to them..." He was right, but I still figured I would have to do a transfer before I could listen to them.

Yesterday a package arrives with a cute little 16" x 12" x 6" camel brown retro-looking suitcase inside. It looks like a small vintage puppet case, which for me is captivating enough on its own. I open the case and discover it is a self contained record player with amp and side speakers. Just like the ones every kid used to have in the 50's and 60's to play 45's. (This may be a reference entirely lost on anyone under 30...yipes). This record player is the modern day version of that antique unit with a note from Harry which says, "Now you will be able to listen to the records when they arrive." I have said it before and I will say it again, *... that's the kind of guy my friend Harry is.*

Our kids sold most of our vinyl collection, which was extensive at the time, to Ameoba many years ago for their allowance money. I kept a few records that were autographed to me or irreplaceable.

I still have a set of four 78rpms that were air checks of the Edgar Bergen radio show, released in 1947. It was a Top Ten label which, according to the cover notes, released a lot of radio show recordings of the time. They list Jack Benny, Burns and Allen, Eddie Cantor and Amos n' Andy as stars in their roster.

The first thing I did was fire up the new "record player" with the old Bergen 78's. I had not heard these routines for at least 20 years, and then only once to check the condition of the records. I had to figure out how the new player worked and remember my technique for placing a needle on the groove of a record. It has been a decade or so since I had to do it. But after all these retro-unique preparations were accomplished, I sat back and enjoyed. It is amazing listening to a vinyl recording of a sixty-two year old radio show. There is something almost mystical about the experience.

It's now normal to plug your stereo earphones into an mp3 player smaller than a pack of gum and hear crystal clear sounds equal in number to thousands of vinyl records. There are no moving parts, no real interaction with the process, only a passive acceptance of the delivery.

Watching an eleven inch disc revolve past a tone arm at 78rpm and hearing the warm hiss of a needle scratching plastic is a time warp. You get to watch the sound being created on this revolving plate right there in front of you . The magic is the fact that it doesn't seem magical. It is logical, this plate spins, the needle rides the grooves. If you slow the spinning down with your finger it slows the sound to the same degree. If you look close enough you can even see that the grooves are little tiny sound waves. Loud sounds are bigger wiggles than the soft smaller sound wiggles. In the near future demonstrating this kind of sound could become the technical equivalent of a live performance.

I can't wait for the other records to arrive. I may have to invite friends over and make a party out of listening to them, as they were meant to be heard. I like having all my audio and video needs on a silicon chip that will fit in my pocket. It surely is easier to travel with. This is the first time in history that the media is smaller than the player that decodes it and that is no doubt a convenience. But I wonder if we have sacrificed the excitement of participating in the process in the name of ease. I guess there should be room in our world for both.

As you were,
Jay