Well, I'm still up after 60 hours with only 3 hours sleep during the day
Sunday... I getting too old for this stuff, jeez... Right now I don' t care
if I ever hear another static crash - but I'll probably put in a couple hours
this evening to close the contest out... Right now I have a personal best in
CQWW CW as SO SB LP 80, way beyond any score in past years... The O2 is a huge
part of that...
Anyway, the new radio was put through the paces in CQWW ... In spite of my
best efforts as a sleep deprived, thick fingered, staggering, glass eyed
zombie, I was not able to crash it - not even once...
"A multiplier Egor, I must have a multiplier!"
Igor hunched over, dragging his left leg, painfully moves across the stone
floor and sits down on the chair of horrror, the right hand trembles over the
chrome plated instrument of torture, a thin trickle of spittle from the corner
of his mouth... "Yes Master, I will find one."
His eyes roll back... He mashes the red knob on the end of the chromium bar and
crackling St. Elmos Fire billows between his fingers, rises up his arm, jumps
from his neck to the wires overhead, writhing and pulsing as it spirals upwards
and sqeezes out the tiny window at the top of the dark chamber, ending with a
blinding flash... The smell of ozone like that from the pits of Baelzebub
penetrates the room... The shout for another multiplier shakes the very
heavens and makes the aether recoil... Igor leans forward, his twisted ear
pressed to the horn of the coherer
Alas, only static rebounds from the speaker... No, wait! There, right there...
Is that one... Igor leans forward more.. A tiny sound, buried in static, parts
of it cut off and missing... It repeats... Igor's huge fingers fumbles across
the panel, pushes a button here, turns a knob there... The sound fades away,
almost gone, then after a short pause comes back again, stronger this time,
clearer this time... YES! It is another multiplier...
Igor triumphantly raises his huge arm overhead and with a convulsive descent
smashes away at the red knob, a crescendo of sound rises to the heavens,
blowing the static aside like a Peterbuilt plowing through a fog bank, making
the crystal globe of the very universe ring in time with the pulsing blows from
Igor's huge hand <actually someone elses hand, but that's another story>
OK, long story short - This is one righteous radio...
denny / k8do
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