Reception

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I had a transistor radio as a kid that was small enough to fit in my hand. It had a nifty wrist strap, so I could carry it around, and a little serrated dial sticking out the side to adjust the volume, and another for the station.

In the 70s, that was the height of hip tech.

I’d fiddle with those dials to get that crackling, staticky reception that only transistor radios could give you, and when I finally grabbed a clear channel for a moment, it was as if the heavens parted.