This Just In!

When moving into a new house (or a really old one in our case) the unpacking of one's belongings can take some time. We have been unpacking now for six months. I start to wonder, well, if you haven't seen something for a long period of time, do you really need it? If it has been in cold storage (this is how I refer to our third floor, because it is cold, and it stores things) this long, was it ever important in the first place? Today I answered my own question. Yes it is. I just unpacked a large box with a label that read "old radios". The box was a treasure trove of vintage radios... Bakelite, wood, and transistors set in a pool of bubble wrap. Yes, I needed this collection out! What was I thinking? As I unpacked this plethora of vintage items, I plugged one in. The resistors, tubes, and electrolytic capacitors started to crackle. It worked! This old-time radio stirred my imagination and creative spirit. I started to imagine my family (me, in a 1960s bespoke dress of blue brocade lamé with a pink sash at the bust and ribbed bodice with a simple kitchen apron over it, Jon in a red brocade smoking jacket with a pipe in hand, Atticus at our feet) huddled expectantly by our living room radio, discovering the joy of imagining each scene in the real-life Technicolor theater of our own minds. I couldn't wait to hear the soft, methodical voice of Steve Walker on NPR, or the Lauren Bacall-like sounds of Charles Ferruzza on 90.1. I started hoping Fibber McGee and Molly would come on so I could explain to people why we keep so much of our junk stuffed in closets, that my name has become a great vernacular catch-phrase synonymous with household clutter. Jon constantly tells me (much like my beautiful mom used to say) "'tain't funny MEGEE!" when I jump out from behind a door and scare him.

I kept turning the Bakelite knobs, wanting, praying for something to tune in. I wanted the sounds of Burns and Allen to come through the radio with George proclaiming to Gracie:
"Gracie, where did you get that bouquet of flowers?"
"Well George, you told me to take Mrs. Jones flowers, so when she wasn't looking, I took these off her table! Aren't they pretty George? Later we'll take these Carnations into the kitchen and milk them!"

These radios remind me of my late mother, who in the early 70's repaired T.V.s and radios when they still needed tubes from the TG&Y counter. She had repaired a small black transistor radio for me to carry around. Many times her and I would listen to an Angels baseball game on the long pier in Long Beach. The sounds of the ocean, "fire-baller" Nolan Ryan on the radio, and my Mom.

I finished unpacking the box. Playing with the knobs, I realized these were treasures that needed to be out. They were provoking the sounds of my past, filled with static and laughter. Exactly the sounds I wanted to hear in our home! Just then I tuned to a station and heard:

"This just in! Hog and Pig Report...down 2%...the U.S. swine industry continued on its course of retraction in the last months of the year. Swine inventories in nearly all..."

Well, hopefully by Friday I will have figured out how to tune in a F.M. station, so my family can huddle down and listen to the raspy sounds of Charles Ferruzza's "Anything Goes" show.

Until next week,

"Say goodnight, Gracie"

-Ron (and Jon and Atticus)