Your average radio has been pushed grudgingly into the 21st century. One of the joys of the old radios was the array of switches and dials. Kiss all that goodbye. New radios are digitally tuned and controlled. And there’s that LCD screen staring you in the face instead of analog numbers.
My wife, for reasons known only to her, listens to classical music while doing the laundry. There must be something about those violins interacting with the humpa-humpa of our dryer.
We had a radio that belonged in the hall of fame. It was 40 years old, just barely this side of the transistor revolution. All it did was play, picking up the testy signal of a local station almost flawlessly.
So I’m down there remodeling my workbench for the umteenth time and decide a little music would be fine. I turn on the set and hear a screech. The lights blink, then I’m standing in darkness.
Old Faithful finally blew. Amazing, it’s always my fault.
At least it happened before Valentine’s Day, a tough holiday to gift. Might as well kill two birds with one credit card, I thought. I shopped radios. I know, radio is so retro.
Despite this, and flagging sales, your average radio has been pushed grudgingly into the 21st century.
One of the joys of the old radios was the array of switches and dials. Kiss all that goodbye. New radios are digitally tuned and controlled. And there’s that LCD screen staring you in the face instead of analog numbers.
I bought a Sanjean on advice of a friend. Of course, it was more than I wanted to pay (48 bucks), but, hey, it’s heartfelt. Note that you are forced into buying a clock radio these days. That apparently is all that’s left of the market, unless you want to spend a lot of dough.
First thing I noticed was the reception. The radio scans stations and locks in nicely, although I miss fiddling the dial.
Now I need to work on that display. It being digital, they yucked it up with a lot of features I’ll never use. Like a military time option and icons out the wazoo. If the power goes out, the screen is backed up with a battery.
Oh, yes, the sound. It’s fair, but in a laundry environment, anything more would be a waste.
There is one concession to modernity. It has a jack to connect an MP3 player. Now instead of Vivaldi and Beethoven, she can listen to Big Bad Voodo Daddy featuring Porno for Pyros. Please pass the fabric softener.
Contact Jim Hillibish at firstname.lastname@example.org.