When we moved into the house 20 years ago, one of the items left behind was an FM antenna for the roof, still unopened in its box.
As a radio geek, I expected to mount it inside the rafters of the barn to enhance my reception of Boston stations, but somehow that never happened.
Last summer, I finally decided to take to the town transfer station (i.e., dump), a victim of changing technology. I usually listen to on-air broadcasts when I’m in the car, not at home.
These days, when I’m home, I usually stream those stations and others via the Internet, hard as that is to admit. The reception’s definitely better.
Still, it means letting go of a self-image I’ve long carried of “making it” in life. The one that included a reel-to-reel tape deck and a wall of LPs in my living room with the big glass window overlooking a busy metropolis.