Two giant, daddy-hop-toad-sized frogs occupied a substantial portion of my plate this summer. Never mind a plate, they occupied a) a 7-foot tower of Ikea shelving and b) 39 cubic feet of air space respectively, in a storage space 8′ x 10′. And each frog weighed a half a metric ton. (Or so it seemed to me.)
I’d vowed to evict both frogs — and a pond-full of miscellaneous other stuff — by the end of August, so that I could board my plane with a clear conscience. Progress, as they say, was being made, although with smaller frogs. In the course of five or six weekends, I’ve achieved:
- Several dozen National Geographics, of varying ages and content, distributed to five families in need of summer crafting materials
- Three sets of fossils, mineral specimens and mounted seashells, distributed to three families looking ahead to Beginners’ Science in the fall
- Four boxes, partially crushed, of newspaper clippings and old magazines, reduced by more than half. What was actually interesting (as opposed to what I’ll read then recycle), I transferred to archival record boxes.
- As a consequence of the foregoing: one oversize domestic recycle bin filled to the brim every other week since Memorial Day weekend
Successes outside the boundaries
I’ve also made progress corralling some of Dad’s stuff outside the bounds of the storage cube. This accomplishment is tangentially related to one of the two aforementioned frogs.
You see, the 7′ stacked frog involves my father’s ham radio equipment. And some WWII equipment that might have been quietly purloined, but equally likely purchased from ex-military surplus, still in their original canvas cases. Not forgetting several boxes labelled ‘tubes’ and ‘antenna’ and the ever-popular ‘radio – misc.’
Mixed in with the ham gear I found boxes with commercial stereo equipment going back into the 1950s. Those Crossley radios that look vintage? Well, I have one that really is. Scott tuners and assorted stereo system power amps? Got them, too. All these I trundled down to a smaller storage space (that makes four!), to clear the path to the truly hefty ham radios.
I put out an all-points-bulletin to dedicated ham radio aficionados, and received a reply better than I could have hoped for. One well-connected chap, Curt B., was willing to come down to Tumwater on the 4th of July weekend. Better still: he was willing to put his back out (just kidding?) to haul every box down. And open them. With a bit of risk of hantavirus from excavating those units once inhabited by mice.
Thankfully, we unboxed plenty of treasures to off-set the mouse-chewed wiring. He filled his truck, and set off with treasures to show to others far more knowledgeable than I. We’ll see if there are any nibbles to purchase — I promised Dad I’d put money in Mom’s piggybank whenever I could. Mostly, I’m just happy these “boat-anchors” are going to find new homes, among fans who will cherish them as my Dad once did.
One last tiny radio story
Radios have obviously been top-of-mind for me these last weeks. So is this next part of the story purely coincidence? Maybe…
About a week ago, I heard an NPR story about “objects that got you through the pandemic,” and I immediately thought about Timothy’s little radio/CD/cassette box. Browsing the NPR website a bit later, I saw an article from the Goats & Soda podcast soliciting listeners to send in their own, single, object. And so I did. This (as they say) is what happened next…
