By Dick Brooks
For Capital Region Independent Media
I was driving through our little hamlet the other day and suddenly a strange feeling that something was missing, something that used to be and now was gone.
Remembering back to the first time I had seen this beautiful cluster of Victorian houses perched on the banks of the Hudson, there was something that had disappeared. Television antennas! Every house had been adorned with a television antenna, an artistic construction of oval and straight aluminum tubes that snared invisible waves of current in the air and with the help of the television set, brought entertainment into the home.
I don’t remember them going, they just sort of faded away. I returned home, poured another cup of coffee, and was joined by Telly, my faithful canine companion. I tended to a belly that needed a rub and settled into my recliner for my customary morning ponder.
The topic I chose was televisions. Television didn’t come into my life until I was in high school. The main reason was we lived in the far and frequently frozen North Country and there were no television stations close enough to get reception. Montreal, being a progressive place, finally got a TV station that was within our reach.
Our next-door neighbor got the first set in our area. They were only a half mile away and housed our best friend, Wild Bill. We were frequently invited over to watch wrestling on Saturday, which could be dangerous since Bill’s mother had become a raving wrestling fan and when in the fever of excitement of watching her favorite in action was known to have put a head lock on the nearest person in her vicinity.
Then came the faithful day we got off the school bus and went the house and discovered the brand new shiny Fada TV set in the living room and our lives changed forever.
The TV channel came on at 10 in the morning and left the air at 10 in the evening. Montreal being a bilingual city, the broadcasting for the day was one hour in French, one hour in English, one hour in French and so on until sign off. This worked out well since we could do our chores or homework during the French hours.
Then Plattsburg got a TV station and the problems began. My father invented the remote, addressing the nearest of his four children, “Hey you, tune it to Plattsburg.” This was not a simple request, especially for me, being the oldest, it fell to me to go outside and turn the antenna to face east.
The antenna lived on the top of a long metal pole attached to the chimney. I would grasp the pole and turn it until the antenna faced east, then yell through the window that it was turned and await further instructions. After a few adjustments, I could go inside and enjoy the fruits of my labor.
This was my job, rain or snow. My uncle had a motor attached to his antenna and could do the job himself from inside. My father could see no sense in spending money needlessly as long as he had me. Children used to be more useful than they are today.
Thought for the week—Don’t expect anything original from an echo.
Until next week, may you and yours be happy and well.
Reach columnist Dick Brooks at whittle12124@yahoo.com.