Radio Broadcast (Nov 1923-Apr 1924)

The Young Heart By ROBERT OLIVER PROWLING about among the city's radio stores, as I often do, to keep posted on the "market" as it relates to the price of parts and accessories, I have on numerous occasions encountered an elderly gentleman who seems to have a passion for buying all kinds' of equipment. I have seen him at the "five and ten" and at down-town "gyp" shops, as well as in the more expensive places around Grand Central. He is not a mere "looker," as the clerks dub those poor wistful wishers who yearn to possess but haven't got the price and those who can raise the price, but who cant make up their minds. No, he is not a " looker/' for he buys, buys, buys. I am sure this old man has accumulated a stock of radio parts sufficient to build a dozen sets, enough parts to keep a man busy for weeks putting them together — and taking them apart as soon as some particular hook-up has been given a trial. There is a sort of free-masonry among radio fans. If you happen to sit next to a chap on the 5:15, who is solemnly drawing peculiar designs in his notebook, the odds are ten to one that it's a hook-up. There is no grand hailing sign, in this fraternity. Almost any one of a thousand questions touching upon radio will suffice. For instance, if you inquire, " How many volts are you using on your detector?" you are introduced at once. There is a warmly responding interest and you're off, as if you had known each other for years. No icy reserve, no elevated eyebrows, no "Pardon me, but you have the advantage of me, sir." I wanted to talk to the elderly gentleman, for he had aroused my genuine interest. I had found it so easy to begin conversation with a radio bug that I laid no careful plan of approach, but merely asked: " Pardon me, do you find radio an interesting pastime? And if so, why?" Casually drawing out of my left-hand trouser pocket an assortment of switch points, binding posts, crystals, etc., I jingled them carelessly in my hand as a sign that I too was a devotee, I might say, a slave. Recognizing in me a brother of the thirtythird and last degree of that fraternity which is doing so nobly in furnishing the funds that keep broadcast stations going, the elderly gentleman greeted me with what seemed to me to be sincere pleasure. Receiving his package of parts from the clerk, he withdrew with me to a corner of the establishment where we could chat in seclusion. "You ask me," he said, "if I find radio an interesting pastime? and if so, why?" " I trust you will overlook the unconventionally of the occasion," I replied, "when you know that I have no wish to pry, but seek only to fraternize for a moment with one of the brethren of the guild." " My boy," exclaimed the old man with feeling, " I am glad you asked me that question. Yes, I do find radio an interesting pastime. Frankly, it has become almost a passion with me. In answer to the second part of your question I will show you my purchases for to-day." Eagerly he untied the package. "This you will recognize as a single-coil mounting. I have no immediate need for it, but I bought it because hook-up No. 46, as I recall it, calls for a 75-turn honeycomb. What's that? Oh yes, I number the hook-ups as I file them away. I file them as they come out. It's' the only way I can keep track of them. I am now up to No. 24, according to my record, and when I get to 46, or perhaps it's 47, I shall need this mounting. And here are two rheostats, they come in handy when I am in a hurry and haven't time to dismantle some other set to get the rheostats. And this transformer — I bought it at a bargain. I have three at home, one just like this, but I simply couldn't resist buying it — a real bargain, I think, and I know it is good. " And here are several grid leaks, a condenser, some bus-bar wire, and several dials, and two phone plugs. And this," his hand trembled as he unwrapped another package which he