The Five Dollar Bill and How I Spent It

Five dollars. What does that get you these days? Two Monster energy drinks? A medium fast food combo? Like 53 Arby melts? What if I told you that five dollars bought me a chunk of history? Well believe it readers. Believe with all your heart. I present to you: The Realistic TR-822 8-Track Cassette Player and Recorder aka A Snapshot of the Seventies.

The TR-822 with her cover slipped off for inspection

A bargain if you ask me

Now, you might say to yourself: "Where is this idiot going to get 8-track tapes?". Would it surprise you if I told you I had a few NOS unopened 8-tracks in a box in my garage? Yeah, I know, seems like only something a hoarder would keep on hand but, by some miracle, a regular jamoke like me had such a box. So I unwrapped a James Gang tape, popped her in, and glued my eyes to the twin VU meters in anticipation of some jammin'-ass needle sweepage. Wrong. I heard some whirring from the cavernous recesses of the wooden cabinet but no audio output. Time to get the screwdrivers.

Yeah, right. Nice try.

So, it turned out that something very important was missing in here: the drive belt. This is not rare, rubber belts were never meant to last more than a decade or two. I don't have documentation, but style and build wise, I would guess that this piece of equipment was manufactured in the 1970's or early 1980's, putting it at around 40 years old. In that span of time, the rubber belt that turned the drive wheel inside the machine had become goo. Let me tell you in case you have never had the pleasure, removing the goo is a pain in the ass. Isopropyl alcohol is your best friend when cleaning belt goo from the drive wheel and the motor pulley.

There should be a belt somewhere in this picture. Can you guess where?

Belt goo is some nasty shit

Once cleaned, the pulleys were ready for a new belt. Problem is, I'm not going to order a belt for a five dollar 8-track player. Spending twice the amount you paid for an 8-track player for a single replacement part is idiotic. Even I have my limits. You see, even when they were mint, 8-track players sucked. They have terrible speed and pitch control, the tapes are built like shit, and whatever means of signal reproduction these things use is just terrible. The best case scenario with an 8-track is slightly warbled playback. I just bought the thing because it looked cool, not because it was some kind of audiophile wet dream. So the cheap and easy solution was to rig it up with a standard rubber band. However, the funny thing about rubber bands is that when you don't need one, they are everywhere. When you need one, they are nowhere. No matter, rubber bands are cheap, right? Wrong. I am not going to name names, but I went to a big box office supply store to buy a bag of rubber bands under the false assumption that one could buy rubber bands in units smaller than a one pound bag. Therein lies the rub, kids. This office supply store had only bulk quantities at ten dollars per bag. Conveniently, all of the small bags that would normally line the pegboard wall of rubber bands were out of stock. Note to office supply stores: DON'T PUT BULK MERCHANDISE IN RESEALABLE ZIPLOCK BAGS! So, after "finding" some stray rubber bands, I went back to the task at hand.

The liberated band stretched into place

After reassembling the case, I popped in that James Gang tape, plugged the player into my receiver, and fired this mutha up. Ahhhhhh. Just like I remembered. Pure shit. The James Gang never sounded so terrible. But, for some reason, those sweeping needles coupled with the loud echoing clunk of the track selector banging its way down to the next track still makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. For some people, these shitty tapes were a way of life. Jamming out in the car meant cranking up the volume on your in-dash 8-track player and just rocking out to the warbling sounds of your favorite band. Much respect if you lived through that era. I fixed this beast in your honor. I will subject my ears to this mangled mess of sound as a way of paying my dues just like you did. I won't take Hi-Fi sound reproduction for granted ever again.

Adventures in the Land of Thrift: Travel Edition

Thursday 19SEPT2013: The Sad Realization

I stood amidst a bustling crowd of junk herders buzzing in all directions, grabbing, evaluating, and stashing what treasures they could manage to get their hands on into rickety, rusty, reclaimed shopping carts. I fought my way back to the electronics section and lifted my arms in exasperation at the realization that these vultures have picked clean the bones of the collective Virginia Beach thrift carcass. I had combed the same stores again and again, each time noticing less and less new inventory. I realized then that my treasure wasn't going to be found here. It most likely wasn't going to be found anywhere in Hampton Roads. What was the elusive treasure I was seeking? A Laserdisc player. I needed a Laserdisc player so I could watch the Special Widescreen Edition of Andromeda Strain that I found alone and unwanted in a pile of old opera LPs and Firestone Christmas compilation records. If I was going to have any chance at finding a working Laserdisc player, I was going to have to leave the metropolis. I was going to have to take this show on the road.

Friday 20SEPT2013: One Last Sweep

Goal: Laserdisc player and/or laserdiscs. Wing chair for the reading room.

It was decided that before the great exodus, Pops and I would comb the local outlying thrift stores one last time. I could barely drag myself to each successive store as the weight of constant disappointment was beginning to crush my soul. At the last stop, just as I was about to give up all hope, Pops spotted it. "Oh, man! A Tandy 1400. Those were the shit back in the day!". I glanced at the gray plastic behemoth. Rays of light broke through the clouds, shined through plate glass and illuminated the primitive laptop as the angels above plucked the strings of gilded harps. Well, maybe not, but that shit still made my heart skip a beat. I flipped the lid. Dual floppy drives. Monochrome display. A battery pack reminiscent of Tyco R/C cars. Great success. The lady at the counter said she had placed it on the shelf as a joke with the word "vintage" sprawled across the top in grease pencil thinking that people would see it, chuckle, and move on. Jokes on her. Best $6 I've ever spent. Although, missing it's power adapter, it added one more treasure to the list.

Friday 20SEPT2013: Departure

Goal: VB to Greensboro. Minimal stops. 254 miles.

With some clothes, a Chromebook, and the Tandy 1400LT personal computer in hand, we departed VB for Greensboro, NC. Made one stop along the way at a Goodwill somewhere along 58. Added one promising power adapter (later found to be dead), one Roy Orbison CD, and one Van Morrison CD to inventory. This location was greatly lacking in electronics and furniture. Onward we traveled.

Friday 20SEPT2013: Arrival in Greensboro

Goal: Dinner and sleep.

We arrived at our base of operations, unloaded the cargo, and briefed my brother on the mission. He agreed to provide transport and knowledge of local customs on this quest. An initial scouting of local thrift stores lands us a chair which we plan to collect on Sunday. We also spot one of the greatest pieces of electronics that I have ever seen. Walnut case, brushed aluminum face plates, and covered in buttons, knobs, and dials. We stand perplexed and google the model number. It is some kind of machine that blasts your brain with waves of good energy. I want it but fight the urge. No room in the budget. We return to base and comb Craigslist for treasures. Sleep comes difficult as I find myself dreaming of Laserdiscs.

Saturday 21SEPT2013: First Leg of NC Journey

Goal: Motorcycle exhaust. Greensboro to Concord. 72 miles.

Pops had previously made contact with a man in Concord, NC regarding a full factory exhaust for his motorcycle. It was decided that we would chase this lead first while I struggled to make contact with my first Laserdisc player lead. I had texted, called, called again, and left a message. No response. The plan was to travel to Concord and await contact. After traveling 72 miles with no word from Laserdisc seller #1, we added one complete motorcycle exhaust to the inventory. We departed in the direction of my first lead in hopes that they would call and set up a meeting before we arrived. I was beginning to get annoyed with craigslist.

Saturday 21SEPT2013: The Second Leg

Goal: Laserdisc player and laserdiscs. Concord to Cameron. 83 miles.

83 miles goes slow as fuck when you stare at your phone in pure frustration the whole time. The closer we come to Cameron, the more irrationally angry I get. I text one last time, careful to word the message sans venom and spite. I inform the seller that we will head back to Greensboro. In the meantime, I begin to work lead #2 in Chapel Hill. I email (since seller did not provide any real contact info) that I am interested in the laserdisc player they have listed. They email back to say it's still available. I tell them we will be passing through Chapel Hill in an hour and to email a time and place if they are available for the sale.

Saturday 21SEPT2013: Begin Radio Silence

Goal: Laserdisc player. Cameron to Chapel Hill. 46 miles.

We head towards Chapel Hill and lose all contact with the civilized world. Lead #2 has fizzled out as the seller refuses to email me back. By the time we reach Chapel Hill, lead #2 had to be completely written off. I am butthurt. Butthurt as fuck. It consumes me. My day is ruined.

Saturday 21SEPT2013: Back to Base

Goal: Sleep. Chapel Hill to Greensboro. 51 miles.

Fuck Craigslist. Fuck Craigslist sellers who don't want to sell. As I settle in for the evening, I get an email from the Chapel Hill lead. "Had to step out. Meet up another time?" Fuck off. At 9PM just as I was about to give up all hope for this Laserdisc adventure, lead #1 texts me. Hope is restored. Sleep is difficult as I dream of Laserdiscs and revenge against Chapel Hill lead.

Sunday 22SEPT2013: The Score

Goal: Laserdisc Player and Assorted Laserdiscs. Greensboro to Cameron. 68 miles.

We began the journey to Cameron renewed. Well, I did anyways. I couldn't read the moods of the other adventurers. A fog of lingering disappointment seemed to remain in the air. Hopes were not high among fellow crew members in light of all previous attempts to purchase a player. Despite the odds, the transaction went smoothly. The seller was friendly, had the unit hooked up for testing, had the manual and OG remote, and actually worked for a company that I was employed by years ago. I leveraged this distant familiarity into a $10 discount. We swapped anecdotes about dead technologies, inventoried the movies, and closed the deal. I left Cameron with a Laserdisc player and pile of mixed Laserdiscs. Great success. 

Sunday 22SEPT2013: Triumphant Return

Goal: Pack up goods from home base. Transfer inventory to return vehicle. Cameron to Greensboro. 68 miles.

We returned to home base triumphant. I, myself, was high on success. I had achieved a major goal. I have wanted a Laserdisc player since I was just a wee lad, admiring them on the carpeted shelves of Circuit City during the early to mid nineties knowing that one day I would call one mine. And there I stood, bathed in the light of pure victory, Laserdisc player raised high above the land like a newborn Simba. Dead formats, I love the shit out of you.

Sunday 22SEPT2013: Homeward Bound

Goal: Pick up chair from Goodwill. Return home. Greensboro to VB. 254 miles.

The last order of business was to collect the chair we spotted on day number one. Fortunately, no one wanted it. I barely wanted it but Pops found it to be quite comfortable and at $15, who gives a fuck. We loaded up, strapped down the precious cargo, and headed home. We put miles behind us and grey clouds made way to reveal blue skies, surely a sign from above. "You done good, Adventurers. You done good."

In the end, we covered a shade under 900 miles in our impromptu journey for treasure. I spent some quality time with my brother and Pops and together, we punched adversity in the dick. Nyah, nyah, nyah, Craigslist. I got my fucking Laserdisc player. Go suck an egg. 

The Soft Glow of Burning Filament

Before the advent of liquid crystal displays and non-tactile momentary push switches, the face of home stereo was backlit by soft glowing incandescent light and comprised of banks of sweeping dials, fine tuned to deliver bits of information in its purest analog form. Heavy tuning knobs let you know that with the turn of your wrist, you were affecting some kind of change inside the innards of the walnut encased beast that sat before you. It felt good to use. It wasn't an appliance, it was a masterful creation, an amalgum of thousands of intricate parts that worked in unison to accomplish the singular goal of providing you entertainment. Fuck all these digitally tuned disposable heaps of plastic covered in blinking LEDs and LCD displays. They just don't nurture the same primal comfort of stereo receivers of yore. There is simply something about heated filaments that harkens back to the soft amber glow of dying embers. Campfire trapped in glass. You can keep your harsh, unapologetic beams of digitally conjured photons, I'll be over here fiddlin' with these dials. Analog4Life, son! You think this is a fucking game? Arf, arf, arf arf! (that is a DMX bark and you will go back and read the last lines of this treatise against LED in the raspy voice of DMX).