memories #12

                                                                THE RADIO

     Only a few high school students had their own car in the early 1960s.  The rest of us used the family car when we could.  In my house, I got to use it once a week almost always on the weekend.  I was envious of those who had their own car.  Mike McDonald had the hottest car, a 57 Chevy. Billy Ray Armstrong had the loudest and slowest,  a 50 Mercury.  The Koontz household offering was split into two time periods during high school.  The first half a 52 Studebaker was showcased and the second half a V.W. bug.

1950 Studebaker

     After I got my driver’s license I thought I could go anywhere at any time.  My wings were clipped early!  There were rules and regulations governing the use of the family car.  My father spelled them out for me.  Rule number one:  A certain number of miles was allotted.  Going more miles then  allotment met no use of the car the next weekend..   Rule number two:  the radio was to be played with the engine running so as not to drain the battery.  Rule number three:  I was to always let my parents know where I would be.

      Rule number one was easily broken.  Unhook the odometer after a few miles and hook it up again when headed home.   Pure genius!  Rule number two was a bit more challenging.

     There were many parking areas in Durango for making out or providing music from the radio in the car for impromptu dances.  The radio played the current hits via KOMA from Oklahoma.  At night time that station came in loud and clear.  Almost always, car engines were turned off during either of these activities.  

with a nose like this, what's not to love?

     When my father got in to use the car the day after I had used it, the radio came on as soon as the key turned.  Oh, oh!  Rule number two had been broken.  My father fixed the problem.

     The next date night I received the allotted number of miles to be used  and drove off.  I turned the radio on but heard nothing but silence.  I thought it was broken but the next morning when we went to church, the radio played fine.  What had my father done?

I don't know why this wasn't the hottest car on the road

    

   

     I found the answer. Father had taken the fuse out.  The next date night, I bought a fuse, plugged it in and listened to the radio.  Before coming home, I would hook up the odometer  (rule number one)  and take the fuse out  (rule number two).   Genius again!  

     Things went well for several weeks until I forgot to take the fuse out.  Father started the car and the radio came on.  My father never said anything about the radio all of the next week.  

     Date night came, instructions and allotments were stipulated and the keys exchanged.  Out the door I fled, pleased that I had gotten away with those two stupid rules.  My replacement fuse in my pocket, I open the door and reach toward the ignition.  GASP!  The radio had been removed!  I’m sure my father would have loved to have seen my face.  He won.  Several months later we traded the Studebaker for a new VW beetle.