[Boatanchors] Ode To The Bay Of E (HCI Net)

[Duane Fischer, W8DBF]

Join us on Sunday April 14th for the HCI: Hallicrafters Collectors International
20 meter Net. It will begin with the pre-Net at 12:45 PM EDT, (1645 UTC). The
Net proper commences at 1:15 PM EDT, (1715 UTC). The frequency is 14.293 Mhz usb
+/- for key clicks, mike splatter and flocks of Canadian Honkers using my pond
out back for a pit stop! 	
	
Enjoy what follows - 	
	
             The Bay Of E: A Flea Market To Flee!


                                        By, Duane B. Fischer


Spring has sprung, the grass has riz,
This solid state rig, it has no fizz.
The dial is small, its hard to see,
It fogs my bifocals, digitally.
I want a rig that has some class,
That glows with purple from excess gas.
A rig that's tough, one built to last,
With slide rule dials, like in the past.
With manly knobs, all round and big,
Slipping dial cord squealing like a Pig.
Some tubes that light the room with glow,
And heat that's fit for baking dough!
The voices crisp from speakers real,
A sense of closeness one can feel.
To Bay of E I clicked and went,
With hopes of Halli's heaven sent.
The ads were many, the truth unknown,
Some prices made my wallet groan!
I found a SX twenty-eight,
The text said 'mint'. Wow! That was great!
A blurry .jpg made me hesitate.
Was that a wart or chip in paint?
The dial was fuzzy, the letters faint.
Some knobs had chips, was that one cracked?
The case was spotted where rust attacked.
The ad said rare, scarce quantity,
A vintage treasure, museum quality.
It came with speaker, PM twenty-three,
He said it worked with certainty.
The sound was awesome, crisp and clean,
A mouse had chewed in spots unseen.
A dropping here, a tooth mark there,
The voice coil wrapped in rodent hair!
It came with manual, the cover torn,
With pages yellow and print well worn.
No copy here, this one was real,
It was well nibbled, some insects meal!
He said it worked, all bands were strong,
No humming switches or static song.
It looked so lonely, in need of home,
As teenage passions filled my dome.
I checked the bid, then changed my shorts,
It shipped by boat from foreign ports.
The time was waning, this soon would close,
Something smelled fishy, I pinched my nose.
I placed my bid and watched the screen,
That jerk in Dallas out bid my green!
The time was flying, I hurried fast,
I bid real high, and then I gasped.
The creep in Dallas could kiss my rump,
I clicked the mouse as price I bumped.
The seconds flew as war i waged,
A bidding frenzy from beasts uncaged.
The time was gone, the auction closed,
I smelled real nasty with sweat soaked clothes!
I held my breath and watched the screen,
I'd compost Dallas just to be mean!
Hurray! The winning bid belonged to me,
I took a breath than ran to pea!
He wanted cash, no checks or plastic,
I sent new bills by Air Fantastic.
The days went by, and then the weeks,
E-mail silence, the omen that reeks.
The SX twenty-eight, the dream I was after,
I would stop at nothing for this Hallicrafters.
I called the post office, the girl put me on hold,
They could not trace the package, or so I was told.
Because it was fragile, they wouldn't insure it,
She said some Valium with whiskey would cure it!
I slammed down the phone, I had to take action,
The Collins Collectors, perhaps Jesse Jackson?
Then up the driveway in a blue cloud of smoke,
Roared a brown truck, was this a bad joke?
The driver unloaded two well traveled boxes,
That looked like a dog who fought with two Foxes!
He looked for the bar codes then scanned them in quickly,
Hurled in my yard and said he felt sickly!
The boxes were here and now they would open,
Granting my wish like some magic potion.
The tape I removed, bubble wrap discarded,
Foam peanuts revealed the secret they guarded.
I stood there in shock, could this be the truth?
Was this an illusion, had someone goofed?
It started with 'H', but not Hallicrafters,
This was a Heathkit, a total disaster!
A receiver, I think, front panel was missing,
And that speaker cabinet was suddenly hissing!
 A Python uncoiled and stretched in the Sun,
I ran for the house and loaded a gun!
I blasted away, the shotgun was smokin',
The snake was in pieces, the chassis was broken.
I vowed then and there, and swore to myself,
Electronic auctions came from way south!
Avoid them I would, no matter how tempting,
For boat anchor lust means sanity pre-empting.


Saturday April 13, 2002