Hi Edward ~ Like you, my folks had no particular affection for old things or machines. They've also both been relatively helpless with mechanical challenges of the most basic variety.
Though we can never know it all, I think past-life influences and cumulative gifts thus derived are as likely to influence our current affinities and skills as are environmental and familial connections. It's a common story that the children of collectors have no particular interest in enjoying (let alone maintaining) even the most humble collection. As for influencing factors, mentors can certainly play a vital role if one is fortunate enough to have them, but if that spark wasn't there to begin with, we wouldn't likely have drawn the mentors into our lives to begin with. Those connections simply would not have been made for us. I like the sound of the highschool boy you knew and his individuality. The clothing alone makes one imagine the machine shop culture of the late 19th century. Best, Andrew Baron Santa Fe On Aug 2, 2012, at 2:25 PM, [email protected] wrote: > I love wunderkinds and their stories, n' enjoyed yours, Andrew! It > reminded me of a mechanically talented HS boy I knew a few years ago who > asked > everybody he ran into if they had any broken lawnmowers or chainsaws. He'd > usually get 'em for free, and then repaired and sold them. Needless-to-say, > he wasn't a Goth, or a Bagger, a Stoner or a Preppie, but he wore faded > overalls and a tam cap! Ha! > > Does anyone think our passion for antiques hearkens to a previous life, or > is it a kind of genetic affinity, or what? My mom disdained anything > old. When I was a boy, she had barely pointed out a cabinet we had in the > basement that came over from Italy with great-grand parents in the 1840s, > and > then coming home from school I saw it on the curb for the trash collectors! > I reacted with horror, and squirreled it away to my clubhouse in the > backyard. Though Mom called everything that played a record a Victrola, do > I > need to say the actual Victrola was long gone by the time I was old enough > to save it? > > : ) > > Edward > > > > > In a message dated 8/2/2012 8:10:07 A.M. Pacific Daylight Time, > [email protected] writes: > > Glad you enjoyed it. > > Taking the time to type out these remembrances brought out some old > memories. The only thing of real importance that I omitted, was that the > waitresses at Flynns would now and then offer me a tall, icy Coca Cola for > free > while I worked on reviving the machines; a tremendous and always unexpected > perk. I got to work on phonographs AND got free soft drinks. > > So, to the list of those who've been generous and supportive must be added > the waitresses of Flynn's Dixie Ribs of the mid 1970s. > > Andrew > > On Aug 2, 2012, at 3:50 AM, john robles wrote: > >> Great story, Andrew! I am loving reading all these histories! >> John Robles >> >> >> >> >> ________________________________ >> From: Andrew Baron <[email protected]> >> To: Antique Phonograph List <[email protected]> >> Sent: Wed, August 1, 2012 9:09:01 PM >> Subject: Re: [Phono-L] How it Started >> >> Great to hear everyone's stories. Here's mine. >> >> I've had an affinity for history, machines and the phonograph for as > long as I >> can remember, and recall creating a paper model of an upright phonograph > before >> I ever had a real one. I also remember standing in utter awe, in the > Edison >> Winter Home and Museum in Fort Myers (now the Edison-Ford estates), > gazing at >> the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling display of cylinder players sprouting > morning >> glory horns in such profusion that it looked like a massive, enchanted > garden. >> I have to admit reaching out to touch some of the uprights and consoles > there, >> lined up behind velvet barrier rails, just so I could feel the history. >> >> In 1974 when I was 12 my family moved, and within bike-riding distance > of our >> new home was a restaurant called "Flynn's Dixie Ribs". For ambience, it > was >> decorated with old relics, including Singer sewing machines and several > mostly >> 1920s phonographs. I don't recall if they were for sale, but my first >> phonograph, a "Berg-Artone" portable, was procured from there. The > management >> was very kind, letting me tinker with the machines in the off hours, and > it was >> there that I got my first hands-on phonograph mechanism education. I > recall >> that I paid for the Berg-Artone with a fine Morgan silver dollar and > $5.00 >> hard-earned from mowing ten lawns in the Florida heat. That portable > had a >> broken mainspring, a punctured, wrinkled aluminum diaphragm and a > dangling >> needle chuck. You might say that the management got the better end of > the deal, >> but for me it was a major coup to get the solid makings of a viable > machine. I >> got two records with it; a tired copy of Jimmie Lunceford's "R >> hythm is Our Business" on Decca, and "Till We Meet Again" (paired with > "Have a >> Smile") on Victor. >> >> >> First I sorted out the reproducer and for a time I just spun the records > by >> finger-on-the-label, enthralled at how so much sound could come out of a > purely >> mechanical device. I was already into electronics and had built some > kits and a >> little transistorized amplifier, so discovering that acoustic > reproduction could >> yield such bold volume and detail was a revelation. I also learned that > the >> motor's centrifugal governor worked quite well to regulate my > hand-driving of >> the platter, and that in its own right was an education. Eventually I > got >> brave, liberated the mainspring and repaired it, and from that point > forward the >> Berg-Artone was capable of playing records without human intervention, > once set >> in motion. Well-meaning adults would ask how I knew what to do, which I > always >> thought was some kind of trick question. It never occurred to me that > they >> wouldn't necessarily know a lot more than I did about that sort of thing. >> >> For needles, I used whatever was in the little spring-lidded needle cup > and >> found that the pointy ones sounded better than the blunted ones, and > resulted in >> less black powdery buildup on the needle tip. After that, I scrounged > through >> the needle bins of the other phonographs in the restaurant, weeding out > the >> obviously worn ones. In search of more, an experiment of cutting the > heads off >> of little brads from the local hardware store yielded poor results, but > added to >> my evolving education. I remember the great moment when at a hi-fi > store, I >> found several new blister packs of 25 needles for 25 cents each, and > bought them >> all. They must have been old stock then, as none further appeared to > replace >> them. >> >> The big event when I was 13, was the acquisition from the same > restaurant, of a >> "Cecilian Melophonic" upright model; something of an Orthophonic > wannabe, but in >> fine condition with attractive burl overlay accents. I derived hours of > >> pleasure listening to that machine and its comparatively full-bodied > tone. The >> record I played most often on it was a cornet solo of Carry Me Back to > Ole >> Virginny on a blue-label Columbia. It had a mournful quality, and a > perceived >> richness that seemed to also carry me back in time. The performer's > name >> remains embedded in my memory; Nellie Hoone Wetmore. Guess I was an odd > kid. >> >> At 14 I worked for a time at a low-level antique store cleaning up > things in the >> back, and arranged to trade my time for a tantalizing Edison Home with a >> brightly repainted red MG horn. With heavy heart I terminated my > employment >> when they sold this treasure to a cash buyer. Later that year came the > next >> milestone, when I managed to buy my first Edison phonograph, a near-mint > BC-34 >> console, from a phonograph enthusiast named Mark Stark whom I met at the > Miami >> Tropicaire Flea Market. Two weeks prior, Mark had sold me some Diamond > Disc >> records, but I quickly realized I was doing them harm, attempting play > with a >> steel needle. Mark had the BC-34 across the back end of his pickup > truck when I >> bought the records. The following week I went back, and running through > the >> aisles soon found Mark and his pickup truck, but no BC-34. He told me > that he >> just hadn't brought it out that day. I don't recall what I did to raise > the >> $135.00 for that machine, but it must have taxed every >> >> horse-trading avenue I had at the time. I used to collect coins, and > it's >> likely I turned in some of the collection. The big bonus for me, > however, was >> going to Mark's house to pick up the machine (with much arm-twisting of > my >> new-driver older brother). There, my host provided us with a guided > tour of his >> phonograph collection. My eyes must have been big as saucers, and my > ears >> standing at attention to pick up every sound. >> >> My first cylinder phonograph finally came to hand about two years later > around >> 1978, courtesy of Les Goldberg at his store "Everything Audio". This > shop was >> clear across the city, a harrowing drive on three expressways to the > unknown >> treasures that lay at the other end of the journey. Everything Audio > inspired >> me endlessly with the restored radios, phonographs and occasional > Jukebox in its >> little front showroom, while Les toiled in back, dealing with the > day-to-day >> life of TV and tape player repair, and unappreciative > consumer-customers. In >> his showroom, however, he had seemingly endless piles of 78's standing >> precariously tall and at an affordable fifty cents each, and I would > spend hours >> sifting through these, hobbling out in the early afternoon with bent > knees and >> numb legs, to get sustenance from the burger joint next door. The rest > of the >> afternoon would be spent sorting the records into the "can live > without", >> "maybe" and "have to have" piles. A glance inside my wa >> llet would often dictate the final cull, though. One day Les gave me > the >> unexpected, golden opportunity to take my pick of one of two > non-functional >> Edison Home phonographs, in exchange for returning one to him working > and >> salable. >> >> >> These were my phonograph beginnings. I've loved the mechanics of it, > getting to >> know the artists and records, reading the histories and enjoying the > simple, >> aesthetic pleasure of seeing the machines. As time goes on and I > mature, I find >> myself feeling less possessive about the machines, and spending far more > time >> thinking about the generosity and support of the people I've met over > the years >> through this passion, one of whom continues to be a prized mentor, and > others >> whose wisdom I've been privileged to dip into with a dedicated question > now and >> then about a particular machine. >> >> My phonograph collection these days numbers a dozen machines, which in > the rush >> of life tend to fade into the woodwork when left alone, but shine forth > when >> interest from other, and sometimes younger people gives them an added > reason to >> be played. In roughly chronological order they are: >> >> An early Edison banner Triumph improved for performance with a 2/4 > setup, a >> prized Medved-rebuilt O-reproducer and Gfell Music Master horn; a Victor > Type E >> front mount (Monarch Junior), a Zonophone Grand Opera, Edisons: maroon > Gem and >> Home model D's, early A-250, a Victrola XVIII, a Brunswick 17 with the >> dual-diaphragm Ultona, an Amberola 50, a Kameraphone & Thorens Excelda, > and an >> electric-motored Victor Orthophonic Credenza. >> >> Andrew Baron >> Santa Fe >> _______________________________________________ >> Phono-L mailing list >> http://phono-l.org >> _______________________________________________ >> Phono-L mailing list >> http://phono-l.org >> > > _______________________________________________ > Phono-L mailing list > http://phono-l.org > > _______________________________________________ > Phono-L mailing list > http://phono-l.org > _______________________________________________ Phono-L mailing list http://phono-l.org
