I can't even remember how long ago it was. Feels like a year, but it's probably less. You lose the ability to keep track of time in these kind of circumstances I find. Whenever it was, many moons ago, Brother Sinister procured a TRC-931 for me. It was a dream-grail for me, especially as no Lasonic product was ever distributed in Australia, this made it very special. This radios one of the genuine classics and to have my wanton mitts on this shiny black box started my emotions buzzing.
Soon her long trip across the planet ended with her new home in my house. I set her up nicely, gave her a clean and let her relax before we got down to business. I knew the bottom deck needed some work so I delicately took her apart and did my best to please her. Found her motor needed replacing and rebelting so I got on the job and started ordering all the necessary parts. She was a cheap first date and I was pleased to get the new motor and belts in place, but there was no love after the work was done. Not even a peck on cheek. She refused to move. The deck wouldn't budge. I tried and I tried to get her motor running, but like other past experiences with the fairer sex, I realised I had to cut my losses and get professional. I took her to my repairman, and he promised to give her the encouragement she needed. In meantime Roman Vienna Sound sent me some jewellery for her, new cassette decks which she was desperately in need of
Weeks went by. He was a busy man. He couldn't focus his attention on her for great lengths of time. I lay awake at night wondering how she was and whether she was getting the attention she deserved. Eventually I got the call: "She's ready."
I couldn't wait to get her home, and give her all my lovin'. But it wasn't to be. My repair man had left a job for me to do, as I encourage him to do, so I learn more and hassle him less. My job was the cassette deck door, which in an earlier fit of passion I accidentally broke and my repair had not lasted. I promised to do a much better job and get her working.
She came home again, all newly serviced and ready for fun. I just had to fix that door. To ease her mind I installed the lovely new deck keys from Roman, which she loved and then she let me get back inside and fix the problematic door. I was careful. i was tender and I did my best. The door opened and shut as smoothly as one could ever hope and I put her back together. Alas when she was all back together, there was tragedy. Again the deck refused to move. No sound. No love. My heart sank again. I tried just using her slip deck.. but it just wasn't the same. I couldn't enjoy her.. and it was all my fault.
More time passed... she sat on a shelf for a few weeks. Unmoving, cold and austere. I could deal with it no longer and decided to risk my skills and try again. I had to be able to get her going! I took her apart and checked the deck before replacing it. But in my haste, and I rue this horrendous mistake to this very day, I connected her power lugs the wrong way around.
A flash.
Blue smoke.
... then nothing.
I couldn't believe my ineptitude... I was horrified at what I'd done...the one I'd loved and wanted the most; abused and tortured by my OWN hand, it was heartbreaking. Recounting this tale of woe to my repairer was even harder and, once again, she returned to his abode for further work. I felt unworthy of her affections and needed time away from her. We all do sometimes.
Months pass. The busy repairer got busier and my TRC-931 wasn't high on his priorities. I felt it as penance for my poor handling of her and it was all I deserved. Other radios came, they gave me the thrills, but not the love. They rarely put up any resistance to my advances and I hate to say it, but most of them were easy. The challenge was what I craved, the reward for all the time and effort. I hoped one day, that day would come.
And it did. My repairer called this week. He said she was ready. He'd done a lot of work on her. He wasn't happy with how hot she ran so he installed some new components to handle her fiery temper. It was the best he could do and he was pleased with the results. There was one issue left, which was my job, as per usual. Her take up was slow. It didn't surprise me in the least after the abuse I'd subject her to that there would be lasting repercussions, but I promised I'd study her deck and solve the problem.
She finally came home last night. The ride home was like her first time ever, it was our first date all over again. I got her inside and all powered up and went to pop a tape in here to check out her take up problem. Pressing eject felt wonderful, she opened up smoothly. Then as I slide a tape in the door breaks. Like some kind of sick horror movie, she sits in front of me with her mouth wide open. I'd failed again... it was like a curse. I couldn't deal with it and went to bed angry with myself, promising I'd make it up to her tomorrow.
Today began with testing her out, with her broken door, to see the take up problem. Indeed she was slow, but she did kick in. I figured it was probably a flat spot on one of the take up gears, but as I tried her more the take up got better and better. Sometimes she needed a bit of encouragement, but once going she'd play from the start to the end of the tape no problem.
My spirits rose. I could finally hear her. In person. Just for me she sang. It was a wonderful experience. But I knew my work wasn't anywhere near done. I'd managed to render the deck broken last time I repaired the door... this wasn't going to be easy but I summoned up all my courage and went inside, again.
After much mending, gluing, cursing, soldering, calibrating, testing and refitting the door was finally in place. Five hours had passed. I felt like I'd taken just as much punishment as she had. The door worked nicely, not as smooth as before, but she was strong now. Stronger than before. I was pleased and put her all back together again.
The moment of truth. I gave her one of my favourite tapes, one I'd saved especially for her. I pressed play. The take up stuttered. It rotated a little. Then a little more. I was focussing all my mental energy on getting that little reel to spin. It spun a couple of quick revoloutions. Then stuttered. Stopped. Then kicked in. Fully rotating. I let the tape play all the way through and she stopped taking up a couple of times, but always caught up. She's a trooper and has kept on playing tape after tape all night. I've spent the evening falling in love with her all over again. Forgetting those bad and rough times, and now looking forward to many years spending quality time together. She's been hard work to get to this stage, but I'm hoping it will all pay off in the long run.
Looking forward to many happy years with my beloved TRC-931. I hope this story gives you hope when you find that difficult girl you want to love but things just don't seem to work out.
And here she is. Gleaming and beaming.. much like her partner.
Rock On.
Soon her long trip across the planet ended with her new home in my house. I set her up nicely, gave her a clean and let her relax before we got down to business. I knew the bottom deck needed some work so I delicately took her apart and did my best to please her. Found her motor needed replacing and rebelting so I got on the job and started ordering all the necessary parts. She was a cheap first date and I was pleased to get the new motor and belts in place, but there was no love after the work was done. Not even a peck on cheek. She refused to move. The deck wouldn't budge. I tried and I tried to get her motor running, but like other past experiences with the fairer sex, I realised I had to cut my losses and get professional. I took her to my repairman, and he promised to give her the encouragement she needed. In meantime Roman Vienna Sound sent me some jewellery for her, new cassette decks which she was desperately in need of
Weeks went by. He was a busy man. He couldn't focus his attention on her for great lengths of time. I lay awake at night wondering how she was and whether she was getting the attention she deserved. Eventually I got the call: "She's ready."
I couldn't wait to get her home, and give her all my lovin'. But it wasn't to be. My repair man had left a job for me to do, as I encourage him to do, so I learn more and hassle him less. My job was the cassette deck door, which in an earlier fit of passion I accidentally broke and my repair had not lasted. I promised to do a much better job and get her working.
She came home again, all newly serviced and ready for fun. I just had to fix that door. To ease her mind I installed the lovely new deck keys from Roman, which she loved and then she let me get back inside and fix the problematic door. I was careful. i was tender and I did my best. The door opened and shut as smoothly as one could ever hope and I put her back together. Alas when she was all back together, there was tragedy. Again the deck refused to move. No sound. No love. My heart sank again. I tried just using her slip deck.. but it just wasn't the same. I couldn't enjoy her.. and it was all my fault.
More time passed... she sat on a shelf for a few weeks. Unmoving, cold and austere. I could deal with it no longer and decided to risk my skills and try again. I had to be able to get her going! I took her apart and checked the deck before replacing it. But in my haste, and I rue this horrendous mistake to this very day, I connected her power lugs the wrong way around.
A flash.
Blue smoke.
... then nothing.
I couldn't believe my ineptitude... I was horrified at what I'd done...the one I'd loved and wanted the most; abused and tortured by my OWN hand, it was heartbreaking. Recounting this tale of woe to my repairer was even harder and, once again, she returned to his abode for further work. I felt unworthy of her affections and needed time away from her. We all do sometimes.
Months pass. The busy repairer got busier and my TRC-931 wasn't high on his priorities. I felt it as penance for my poor handling of her and it was all I deserved. Other radios came, they gave me the thrills, but not the love. They rarely put up any resistance to my advances and I hate to say it, but most of them were easy. The challenge was what I craved, the reward for all the time and effort. I hoped one day, that day would come.
And it did. My repairer called this week. He said she was ready. He'd done a lot of work on her. He wasn't happy with how hot she ran so he installed some new components to handle her fiery temper. It was the best he could do and he was pleased with the results. There was one issue left, which was my job, as per usual. Her take up was slow. It didn't surprise me in the least after the abuse I'd subject her to that there would be lasting repercussions, but I promised I'd study her deck and solve the problem.
She finally came home last night. The ride home was like her first time ever, it was our first date all over again. I got her inside and all powered up and went to pop a tape in here to check out her take up problem. Pressing eject felt wonderful, she opened up smoothly. Then as I slide a tape in the door breaks. Like some kind of sick horror movie, she sits in front of me with her mouth wide open. I'd failed again... it was like a curse. I couldn't deal with it and went to bed angry with myself, promising I'd make it up to her tomorrow.
Today began with testing her out, with her broken door, to see the take up problem. Indeed she was slow, but she did kick in. I figured it was probably a flat spot on one of the take up gears, but as I tried her more the take up got better and better. Sometimes she needed a bit of encouragement, but once going she'd play from the start to the end of the tape no problem.
My spirits rose. I could finally hear her. In person. Just for me she sang. It was a wonderful experience. But I knew my work wasn't anywhere near done. I'd managed to render the deck broken last time I repaired the door... this wasn't going to be easy but I summoned up all my courage and went inside, again.
After much mending, gluing, cursing, soldering, calibrating, testing and refitting the door was finally in place. Five hours had passed. I felt like I'd taken just as much punishment as she had. The door worked nicely, not as smooth as before, but she was strong now. Stronger than before. I was pleased and put her all back together again.
The moment of truth. I gave her one of my favourite tapes, one I'd saved especially for her. I pressed play. The take up stuttered. It rotated a little. Then a little more. I was focussing all my mental energy on getting that little reel to spin. It spun a couple of quick revoloutions. Then stuttered. Stopped. Then kicked in. Fully rotating. I let the tape play all the way through and she stopped taking up a couple of times, but always caught up. She's a trooper and has kept on playing tape after tape all night. I've spent the evening falling in love with her all over again. Forgetting those bad and rough times, and now looking forward to many years spending quality time together. She's been hard work to get to this stage, but I'm hoping it will all pay off in the long run.
Looking forward to many happy years with my beloved TRC-931. I hope this story gives you hope when you find that difficult girl you want to love but things just don't seem to work out.
And here she is. Gleaming and beaming.. much like her partner.
Rock On.
That was better then any chick flick I've ever been forced to watch... 
oof: 
Hope she stays functional for many, many years to come! 
931 the dream