(Warning: Major geekage ahead.)
I have a lot of sympathy for the Trib's Mike Seate. Last week, he wrote about the withering comments a 20-year-old cable TV repairman said upon inspecting his stereo equipment:
"'Dude -- you still use one of these things?' he asked, stifling a chuckle as he eyed my graphic equalizer. 'It's cool. My grandfather uses one and says he can't listen to music without it,' chirped the baby-faced technician, not realizing the extent of his insults. Of course, junior here had no idea his words carried such weight. Most audiophiles imagine themselves still on the cutting edge of sound technology, even if we're listening to an original-issue Benny Goodman 78 on an imitation oak, Philco Hi-Fi set."
Boy, I've been there. I'll never forget the time I picked up two colleagues to take them to the airport on a business trip. I had my previous sleek, dark Mercury; I'd just treated it to a $300 Earl Scheib paint job after spending several weekends doing body work.
"This is a nice car," said one co-worker as she got in.
"Thank you," I said.
"Are you restoring it?" she asked, innocently. She thought it was an antique. (Talk about ego deflation!)
But I digress. Mike Seate was discussing audio equipment. Like him, I have a lot of stereo equipment that is old enough to vote, possibly because, like him, I'm a writer, and walking into some audiophile shop and plunking down $2,000 for a home theater system isn't exactly in my budget.
In fact, I was a little insulted the other day when some NASA administrator was discussing the age of the space shuttle's control systems. "After all, no one has 25-year-old electronics in their house that they use every day," he said. Well, yeah, some of us do. Of course, we're not trying to go into orbit (though we may be trying to listen to "Telstar" by The Tornados).
So, after reading Mike's column, I did a quick survey:
1.) The Zenith clock radio in the kitchen, which I listen to every morning when I get ready for work, dates to about 1965. I bought it at the Eastland flea market for $3 shortly before moving into my first apartment, and many's the day that I listened to it while ironing a clean shirt before going into work for my first job. It gets any station you like, as long as it's on AM, and still sounds pretty good. And the clock keeps good time.
2.) I have no idea how old the Grundig "Melody-Boy" portable AM/FM/shortwave in the bathroom is, but I suspect it's from the early '70s. (Stamped on the bottom? "Made in W. Germany.") I bought it at a ham radio swap meet for $7 a year or two ago. It sounds great, and often goes outside with me when I work on the car. The only problem is that it gobbles 9-volt batteries like crazy.
3.) The H.H. Scott "Stereomaster" bookshelf stereo in my bedroom dates from the mid-'60s, and came with a nice Garrard turntable and a Pickering magnetic cartridge. I paid $5 for it at Eastland about 15 years ago, and I only bought it because I needed a halfway decent turntable. I had every intention of gutting it for parts, and then hooked up some speakers and decided to listen to the radio. I was astonished at how good it sounded. I still am. It's not fancy, but I use it almost every day to listen to the radio (and MP3s ... I've got a snazzy new Panasonic CD player attached to it, one of my few pieces of audio equipment purchased first-hand). Also attached is a ...
4.) Technics cassette deck from the early '80s, which I purchased for (I think) $5 as surplus from a radio station that had upgraded equipment. When I bought it, it refused to play cassettes --- there was something wrong with some sensor inside. I bypassed the sensor, intending to fix it permanently later on. That was 10 years ago. (I'll get to it, don't rush me.)
5.) Also in the bedroom is a big portable Zenith television, which provides a nice, bright clear picture in glorious black-and-white. I garbage-picked it from a TV station. After a little cleanup, it worked fine. I don't watch much TV in bed, but I sometimes wonder what "The West Wing" and "Saturday Night Live" look like in color. (Those are filmed in color, right?)
7.) There's another Zenith TV out in the living room, but it's color and (gasp!) came with remote control. It's stamped 1985 on the back. It was generously donated by someone I used to work with when I bought my house, and still has one of the best color pictures I've ever seen. Lately, though, the colors have occasionally been getting dim; a good sharp rap on the cabinet brings them back. I guess I'm going to have to open it up and tinker with it soon, but for now, I'm inclined to leave it alone. When the picture goes gloomy, I just figure, "Well, I've watched enough TV for today," and turn it off.
8.) On the other side of the living room, next to my Archie Bunker recliner, is a Bradford AM/FM console stereo, with record changer. Bradford was the house brand of the old W.T. Grant discount chain. For some reason, I always wanted a swingin' '60s-style hi-fi (too many "Rat Pack" movies as a kid?) and I spotted this beast one afternoon years ago while tooling around North Versailles. Someone had set it out for the trash. I knocked on the door, asked if I could take it, and then (with some difficulty) loaded it into the back seat of my car. It'll rattle all of the windows in the house with deep, boomy bass or high, twinkly treble, and there's virtually no hiss or hum. Those '60s swingers had the right idea: It's very groovy, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, to open all of the windows, pour a cold adult beverage, and kick back with a good book while listening to jazz on your hi-fi.
9.) Over in my home office, there's another H.H. Scott "Concertmate." This is a more conventional, full-size tuner/amplifier than the one in my bedroom, and I bought it for $10 at a swap meet about five years ago. Frankly, it's pretty beat up, and it needs some work. There's an annoying little buzz in the audio sometimes. I haven't made up my mind whether to fix it up or find something else, but it's not high on the priority list. (See item 4. It still has several years before it gets near the top.)
10.) Finally, at work (and this is cheating a little bit), I've got a spiffy looking Magnavox table-top stereo. I'm not sure how old it is, but if you're a fan of "The Dick Van Dyke Show," the radio in Rob and Laura Petrie's kitchen was virtually identical. I bought it for $2 at an estate sale in Glassport in about 1992. It was made in Fort Wayne, Ind., the cabinet is real wood, and there's probably more metal in its chassis than Dell Computers uses in a year. It took me all through college; many's the night I labored over a paper or some other project while listening to my favorite radio station, the late, lamented Z-107. It's not worth anything, but surprisingly, it has a lot of sentimental value to me.
I haven't even counted all of the other radios, tape players and assorted other old electronic gizmos that seem to stick to me like iron filings to a magnet; they're stashed in various places on the shelves downstairs and in the garage, and in my mother's house (much to her enduring consternation).
Lest any burglars read this, think that I have a houseful of rare antiques, and decide to rip me off, let me save you the trouble. At various times, in need of money, I've checked the value of this stuff, thinking I should put it on eBay. Don't bother. If you tried to sell the entire collection, you might be able to liquidate it for upwards of $20.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I just bought a bunch of Benny Goodman 78s, and I think I'd like to listen to them on my imitation wood hi-fi.
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To Do This Weekend: Duquesne Annex volunteer fire department's annual fair is in full swing, tonight and tomorrow, at Duquesne Village Shopping Center on Homeville Road in West Mifflin. There are games of chance, food and live music. ... Society of Sound and Dr. Zoot and the Suits play North Braddock Community Day Saturday afternoon at the park near the corner of Wolf and Sheridan avenues. There will be rides and craft booths, and refreshments will be on sale. Parking and admission is free, and there will be fireworks after sunset. ... Swing 'n sway with the Sammy Kaye Orchestra at 7:30 p.m. Sunday at Riverfront Park, Water Street between Fifth and Ninth avenues.
Things I found on the Internet while I was looking for other things:
If you know the name "Fatty Arbuckle" at all, you know it because the silent film comedian was the target of one of the most notorious trials of the 1920s. Arbuckle, who was then as big a star (no pun intended) as Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin, was charged with rape and murder as part of what appears to have been a failed blackmail scheme.
After three trials and no convictions, the final jury issued a statement: "Acquittal is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle. We feel that a great injustice has been done him. We feel also that it was only our plain duty to give him this exoneration, under the evidence, for there was not the slightest proof adduced to connect him in any way with the commission of a crime. He was manly throughout the case, and told a straightforward story on the witness stand, which we all believed."
But the damage was done, and Arbuckle's career was ruined. Hollywood censor Will Hays banned Arbuckle's films from circulation and none of the major studios would put him on screen. He directed for a time under a pseudonym, but eventually became an alcoholic.
In the bitterest of ironies, a group of Hollywood stars and Arbuckle fans lobbied Warner Brothers to give him another chance. In 1933, the day after he signed a long-term contract with Warners, he died.
All this and more is available at David B. Pearson's Arbucklemania, along with other trivia. (For instance: The nickname "Fatty" was slapped on him by a publicity agent, and his friends called him "Roscoe" or "Arbie." When a fan called him "Fatty," Arbuckle, who was otherwise a gentle soul, would reply, "I've got a name, you know.")
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Speaking of old movies, Leonard Maltin is a better critic than his work on the excreable "Entertainment Tonight" might lead you to believe. (I know, I'm sure it pays the bills.) Check out his Movie Crazy website if you don't believe me.
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Hmm. This seems to be a "Hooray for Hollywood!" roundup. This clip, from commercial voice-over artist (read: "announcer") Don LaFontaine, is funny on any number of levels.
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And now, for a brief message from our friends at Norge, Kelvinator, Bendix and Philco. How many times a day do you ask yourself: "Gee, I wish there was someplace where I could see videos of 1950s and '60s washing machines agitating. Why doesn't someone remedy the lack of movies of 40-year-old appliances in action?"
Well, somebody has. And at AutomaticWasher.org, you can also watch vintage TV commercials starring Betty Furness. (You can be sure that they're Westinghouse.)
(You're welcome, by the way.)
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What's the most idiotic automobile you could spend your money on, besides a Yugo? (No, not "two Yugos.") It's a Chrysler K-car customized to look like a Mercedes. Hurry up and make an offer before someone else snaps it up. (Tube City hard hat tip: Jalopnik)
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Fine lines (apologies to Eric Zorn):
"Did you ever have the feeling that you're George Burns and everyone else in the world is Gracie?" --- Mark Evanier, News From Me
"Since taking office five years ago, President Bush has gone on vacation fifty times. Fifty vacations in five years ... that's about average, right?" --- David Letterman, Late Show
"It's been so hot in New York City that I have a confession to make. Yesterday, I took off all of my clothes and sat in front of the refrigerator, in my underwear, and just let the cold air blow on me. And after about 15 minutes, they threw me out of Sears." --- Letterman, same night
The long-delayed Cox’s photos were finally posted Tuesday night. That update takes the place of today’s Almanac. (You'll need to scroll part of the way down the page to see the vintage 1960s and '70s photos.)
R.L.M., wherever you are, bless you.
I got a call last week from a lady who was selling a building that had formerly housed a G.C. Murphy store. She found my name on the Internet. In the basement of this building was a bunch of old files from Murphy's, she said, and she was getting ready to throw everything out. Before she did, would I come up and look at the stuff first?
I've been on a couple of wild goose chases already. One person called me repeatedly, saying they had great stories about working for Murphy's; when I got there for the interview, they had one so-so story. I plugged along as best I could, anyway: "What do you remember best about working for Murphy's?" I'd ask. "It was nice," they'd say. "What was nice about it?" I'd ask. "It was nice." Etc.
Still, I appreciate their interest, and it's nice to meet these folks; even if their contribution isn't all that large, it's encouraging that they're eager to help.
And you never know what you're going to find until you look, so I made an appointment to meet this lady, first thing Saturday morning. The store was about an hour from Pittsburgh. I got there in time to get a cup of coffee before she arrived to unlock the door.
The first floor was like a time warp back to 1985. She and her husband had bought the building shortly after it was closed by the McCrory Corp. and continued operating the street level as a variety store. Inside, all of the signage was G.C. Murphy Co. vintage early 1980s; even the shelves were in the same place. About the only concessions to modernity were two new electronic cash registers and a new pop cooler.
"My husband said I should have just thrown everything away," she said, as she led me down to the basement, "and to tell you the truth, I think I'm wasting your time, but I didn't know who else to call. This is probably all a bunch of junk."
She snapped on the lights. On top of one set of shelves were four mechanical cash registers. On another set of shelves were about a half-dozen typewriters of various vintages. Cloth shopping baskets stenciled "G.C. MURPHY CO." were piled in the aisles.
I got a little wobbly in the knees. I have dreams like this, you know.
She led me over to another set of shelves, where row after row of dirty three-ring binders were lined up. I pulled one of them out; it was a catalog for Murphy's corporate sign shop, with illustrations, describing the different banners and pennants that a store manager could order, circa 1968. Another binder contained "Plan-o-Grams" --- suggested layouts for counter displays. There was a folder with shoplifter reports from the 1960s, including confessions: "My name is S--- J
No, the Cox's pictures aren't up. Mea culpa. I was overtaken by events. Check back Wednesday.
Also, to answer Bob's question in the comments on Friday's Almanac, Cox's and Jaison's did indeed have branches at Monroeville Mall. I believe Jaison's also had a store in Braddock; it may have been Jaison's original store, if my memory is correct.
If I can digress for a bit, I think Jaison's didn't technically go out of business, but actually merged into the Fashion Bug chain. (Jaison's was the bane of my existence growing up, because people from Our Fair City --- including teachers --- always misspelled my name with an "i" when I was a kid.)
Besides Monroeville, Cox's also had stores at Beaver Valley Mall, Norwin Shopping Center, East Hills Shopping Center, and in downtown Washington, Pa. Cox's took over a store called "Caldwell's" on South Main Street, directly across from the courthouse. It was known as Cox's-Caldwell's for a while, and later just "Cox's."
Bob asks if there's any such thing as a "locally-owned" department store. I don't think so, or at least, not in Western Pennsylvania. Not everything is owned by the May Company and Federated, however; Boscov's is still independent, as is The Bon-Ton, and they both have some branches around the region.
Boscov's is based in Reading, and Bon-Ton is based in York, so they're locally-owned to people in those cities, at least!
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