Tube Dude

I was just accosted, here at work, by a highly enthusiastic (and troglodytic) dealer in "antique radios and related items". He's keen on acquiring the corpses of sound systems that have lain for decades, dust-covered, in the cluttered cabinets and drawers of our old projection booth. These are chunky systems, systems you could kill rats with, with vacuum tubes and spaghetti wires clustered like cave fungi on the backs of quarter-inch aluminum panels. I poked into some of the darker crannies with him, and he seemed puppy-dog grateful; for my part, I would be delighted if some of our old equipment found a new home and our booth got tidied at the same time. I enjoy being able to feed an enthusiasm.

This Victrola Frankenstein was a spot of light in a fairly gray day. I feel, as I sometimes do, far away from most of the people I care about; I'm unsettled, misty, slightly paranoid. Partly it's that I'll need to be here at work until 3AM, since we're showing The Goonies for our midnight show; partly that tonight is, apparently, the Spring Ball at Swarthmore, which is light and flowers and music and friends and pretty girls in pretty dresses. Tonight in Ann Arbor is ice and wind and patron complaints.

Also, I finally threw away the grand but irreparable black cashmere coat with the rip in the shoulder and the torn cuffs. Putting it to your cheek was like nuzzling a black lab.

In the neutral-to-plus column: Kendra's parents are here for a brief visit, on their way to Indiana. I saw them for a few minutes only tonight, when they stopped by the theater after dinner, but tomorrow we'll attend the lunch buffet at Raja Rani. Apparently, I have leftover Christmas presents coming, which is a pleasant semi-surprise. (It's nice to see them for other reasons, also. I am not solely a greedy grasping quasi-son-in-law.)

I believe I shall order some food. (Green turtle needs food, badly.)