Art,
Very nice....So we again explore the depths of our skill in praise of
TenTec. Must be listening to all that CW!
John Graves
WA1JG
jh.graves@verizon.net
Art Trampler wrote:
>
>
> The Fixation of Five Sixty-Three
>
>
>
> There be strange smoking toil, by the night’s waning oil,
>
> When men quell their chirps and their clicks,
>
> But the strangest it seems, so near to our dreams
>
> Was the night near the snake of the Williams Lake
>
> When Joe repaired his old Omni Six.
>
>
>
> Now Joe was a man who was known as a ham,
>
> Who would dit and dah with the best
>
> But his dear Omni Six, in need of a fix
>
> Had a stuck PLL borne on vapors of hell
>
> That gave our dear OM no rest.
>
>
>
> So Joe turned to the reflector, a knowledge collector
>
> Where the oracle was known to lurk
>
> And was given good fodder to search for some solder
>
> That was cold in the joint-now you see my point
>
> That had caused this unsettling quirk.
>
>
>
> With iron in hand, smoke rings rose in a band
>
> Round his head like ethereal wraith
>
> And o’er the circuits he went with a hard-focused bent
>
> To make tin and lead flow like spilt blood in the snow
>
> Yet still t’was an act of his faith.
>
>
>
> For circuits that die are ne’er hard to come by
>
> Yet to resurrect them requires the knack,
>
> That is found less these days, lost in mists and in haze
>
> To fix what is broken, a repair more than token
>
> In the quiet of Joe’s radio shack.
>
>
>
> Yet when he was done was he sure he had won,
>
> This battle with solder joints cold?
>
> It would seem that he was, or that was the buzz
>
> Which passed round the net (did you place a bet?)
>
> At least that’s how this tale has been told.
>
>
>
> When at last came the hour when he restored power
>
> Cold display pierced the shack’s whelming night
>
> He placed his hand to the dial, then turning it while
>
> The numbers did change—said I before it was strange
>
> QRG dancing now in his sight.
>
>
>
> Thus a fine fix did Joe bring to his Six,
>
> And it plays now as in its youth
>
> Each circuit now works, no duty it shirks
>
> All joints are now well, yet still cold as hell
>
> Hear all you men, ‘tis the truth.
>
>
>
> So when next you hear Joe’s signal come near
>
> I ask you friend, bear this yarn in mind
>
> That our Joe was not slow
>
> To repair with all care
>
> A Six needing a Fix from its bind.
>
>
>
> There be strange smoking toil, by the night’s waning oil
>
> And the strangest by far to these ears
>
> Was the night that Joe fought with what Ten-Tec had wrought
>
> Coiled near to the snake of that old Williams Lake
>
> And it may be the strangest for years.
>
>
>
> Art
>
> KØRO
>
>
>
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>
>
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