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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