LETTERS
Not a hobby
It has been years—decades—since I last thought about my dad’s Magnavox Stereo. Jason Victor Serinus’s brilliant essay in last month’s issue opened up the floodgates.
Like Jason’s dad, my dad also had a Magnavox Stereo, complete with Garrard record changer and diamond needle. With its giant woofer and glowing tubes, it was not only state of the art for 1960 but a work of art as well.
It was both the focal point and family gathering point in our small four-room flat. It was my dad’s pride and joy.
We did not listen to Caruso or opera. My dad’s taste was more along the lines of Jonah Jones and Tony Bennett. But the emotional and physical connection to the artists and the system were the same as Jason’s.
While I did not set out to duplicate my dad’s system, my 35-year-old LP12, my record collection, and my tube amp appear to indicate otherwise.
A day doesn’t pass without me discussing music or my system. They are so intertwined it is impossible to speak of one without the other. This is not a hobby. It’s a way of life.
Without some sort of playback medium, most of us would never have experienced the power and the glory of Caruso. Or Jonah Jones. Or Joe Cocker.
Jason’s last paragraph
