Radio's for Survivors

When the weather turns cold and clear I get an itch to listen to my short wave. It's addictive. I have this thing for radios, short wave sets really turn me on. I can sit for hours and listen to the chatter of the world.

I own a new (to me) rebuilt Grundig Satellite 800 from which I can finesse signals from around the earth when the atmospheric conditions allow. If help is needed I'll attach one of my 'slinky' antennas.

If I feel nostalgic I carefully carry my old Zenith over to the table and extend its antenna. She's a beautiful Trans-Oceanic M500, carefully restored by an old friend. She has tubes (remember them) which glow a sleepy orange and carry voices of Europe and Asia to my little part of the world, news from their point of view without the slant of our current media's biased lies.

I also keep around a few portables, some rest in my travel trailer, others in our get home bags. Mostly little Grundigs. They come in awful handy for camping trips. If and when that 'day' ever arrives you should have one or two. A hand crank model too for when the batteries run dry.

News, information, is important when your life is on the line. If you don't believe me just ask the poor Jews of the Warsaw ghettos.

I understand Grundig, a German company, was recently purchased by a firm out of Japan...can't for the life of me remember it's name. Doesn't matter, the quality should be as good, though I doubt better. Seek out an older model, they're out there.

Above, a file photo of a Zenith Trans-Oceanic model 500. Notice the lid houses its removable antenna. You take clips and attach to the rear of the radio and extend the antenna or by using suction cups provided, stick the little sucker to a window in your plush rail car and listen to the world.

Just for slaps and tickles run over to Ebay and do a simple search for Grundig (or other brand name) radios. Many are listed in new and rebuilt condition. I feel everyone should own at least one...in my humble opinion.

Do yourself a favor and turn off the television and broaden your horizons. Who knows, you might enjoy it.

Stephen

It's Quiet and Cool

Good morning, my friends...it's early, the sun isn't even awake, my coffee is brewing and it's 48 degrees outside....I want to return to my warm bed.

This mini-depression requires otherwise.

Later.

Stephen

Bluesun

Yesterday I posted a thank you and welcome to Bluesun but didn't have a link for his blog...as you can see I've corrected that oversight.

Please, give him a shout.

He's nice people.

Ed McGivern

I completely forgot Ed's birthday yesterday. Guess my head was in the clouds. Ed was born in 1874 and passed in December 1957. It was Ed McGivern (and my father) that put the bug in my heart for handguns and fast draw. He was the best hand gunner that ever lived. Many of his records still stand, although Jerry Miculek has since broken a few of his single-action records, Ed still holds many I doubt will ever be broken.

My father took to me to one of Ed's last handgun expeditions just prior to his death. I'll never forget it. For more information, Google....he was one hell of a man.

Ed, above, on the left.

Above, this is one of Ed's Sam Myres Buscadero two-gun rigs.

Ed and Elmer Keith were good friends. I'm proud to say so was I. Elmer and Me struck up a friendship back in the early 1970's when I had mailed and asked if he'd be willing to sign my copies of his books. By return mail he agreed and before I knew it I was receiving a letter once or twice a week from Elmer. I still have them, and of course, all his signed first editions.

These two men, if you are a member of the gun culture, should hold a special place in your lives. They set the standard. They shaped the handgun world.

Stephen

Thanks & Welcome

To my friend  Kris for taking a moment to reach over and hit my follower button. You've made my day. I always welcome new followers with the old line (old to me at least) when you comment here I shall always reply as soon as possible...it might take me a few hours, or days on rare occasions, but trust me I will respond. My promise to you.

I ask the rest of my good friends to please click and visit Kris at her nice blog. It's well worth your time.

Again, Kris, thanks and welcome. You're now among friends.

Stephen

It's The Little Things

We cruised along this morning and shared our enjoyment with the cool weather, and laughed and played our silly little games when I remembered the book.

"Hey, Little Bit, guess what..."

"What, Papa."

"After we get to school I have a gift for you."

Her, all excited, doing the little girl squeal, "What is it, Papa?"

I reach around and get the gift from my bag and tuck it under my left arm, teased her with my evil chuckle, then.

"Wait, Honey, I'll give it to you later." Now she's about to rocket from her seat, she claps her hands and begins to sing one of her 'made up on the spot' songs, "Papa has a surprise for me...repeat...Papa has a surprise for me."

She reads to me every morning, her voice soft, lyrical, tender. Recently her subject matter has been stories of Barbie. Barbie and her little sister solving mysteries or sharing high adventures. Little Bit had expressed her love of the book one morning when she'd been arrested and shut into her bedroom. The book was and is her escape from the realities of her little world.

One morning, as we waited in the car line, she had expressed sadness over the book.

"Why?" I'd asked.

"Cause, Papa, I have to take my book back to the library and I'll miss it."

"It's fine, Sweetheart, you can check it out again."

"We have to wait, Papa, 'cause they said other people may want it too."

I'm a sneaky booger when necessary. I took a quick glance at the book. 'Barbie's Collected Stories,' who knew....
Later, when I made it back to my office I hit Amazon.com and ordered her a copy. They had three copies available....again, is this a rare collected piece of literature... doesn't matter. My small gift of God deserves her own copy.

Within a few days it arrives. I stash it away in my bag and this morning as we're sitting in the car line I dig it out and hand it over.

I cannot remember her words verbatim but it ranged from a very high squeal to just under a glass shattered yell.

"Oh, Papa, really, it's mine."

"Yes, Honey, all yours."

Then,

as she's jumping up and down in the truck seat....

"Papa, you mean I can keep it all my life?"

"Yes, Sweetheart, you may keep it for the rest of your life."

She then reached over and took my pen and turned to the inside page and wrote, 'I love Papa.'

I'm here to tell you, it took a great amount of self-control to not....well, you know.

Stephen

Thanks & Welcome

To Bluesun. My friend I always reply to comments as soon as possible. I would have linked back to your blog but for some unknown reason your avatar doesn't have a link. So, do me a favor and leave the information, please, in a comment and I'll be more than happy to give you a shout out.

You are now among friends.

Again, thank you and welcome.

Stephen