Ode to a Clock Radio
My black-and-white GE clock radio didn’t just tell time and play music, it was a companion in my life — and reminds me that old things are best
My General Electric black-and-white clock radio has lived a lifetime.
The simple, black-faced white-plastic-cased appliance has been steadily by my side for nearly 50 years.
It began gathering memories that it alone holds on the day it arrived in bright packaging with a recycled sticky ribbon bow. The rectangle box unwrapped on Christmas morning to reveal an AM analog time telling machine.
The excitement that morning of our very own clock radios still stands out in my memory. Unlike our matching pj's, this gift we never outgrew.
My brother got an identical one, reminiscent of our matching pajamas as children. The excitement that morning of our very own clock radios still stands out in my memory. Unlike our matching pj's, this gift we never outgrew.
Time Marches on Without Me
I felt like a grown up, plugging in my black and white gift on the desk between mine and my older sister's bed. Relieved that I no longer had to venture to her side of the room to see what time it was. The set-up was easy to do for an 11-year-old.
My treasured gift travelled through junior high to the years of high school as I awoke for the walk to school in my navy-blue uniform. The seventies design was still ticking as I went off to the University of Vermont with it by my side.
There my friends laughed at the AM-band radio and analog clock face, wondering when I would get with the times and buy an FM digital clock radio. Yet, the thought never crossed my mind. I liked my clock radio.
It Did What I Needed Done
The clock face may not have shone in the dark — all the better, as I could not stand any light when I slept. Plus, it was dependable and woke me whenever I needed it to. I could listen to the news or catch some music from it. What more did I need? I ignored their taunting and set my alarm.
After graduation, at my first professional job, there it sat by the side of my bed rousing me for the short walk up the road to my office in Burlington, Vermont. When I ditched that life to travel across the country to Sun Valley where I became a "ski bum," the clock was in my footlocker sent ahead and waiting for me at my new apartment. There it began waking me for my job as a night auditor at a hotel and continued to reliably rouse me on weekends, when I also tended bar at night.
There were few local AM radio stations in Sun Valley, but that was OK. Every spare minute I had was spent skiing. The news I cared about was the conditions on the slope.
When I headed back East, I never needed to update this old reliable. My wardrobe, yes. The clock radio, no. The best timekeeper and its alarm could be counted on. No batteries were required. No winding needed. It was quiet and the black and white went with any décor. What more could I want?
A Constant Presence in My Life
In Boston, I would set the clock for 6 a.m. I needed the local stations. I would have the radio station set to the "traffic on the threes" so I could estimate my commute and plan my day while still in bed. When my job changed and did not involve the car commute, the alarm was less needed; however, its presence by my bed created a sense of continuity despite my life changes, always there with the news and weather information.
The early Nineties meant graduate school followed by a busy professional life in Boston. Only this black-and-white circa 1970, plastic clock-radio has been with me as I moved 12 times in as many years around Boston; I'm sure it has its own tales to tell.
On a good clear night, long before the internet made all things possible, I could pick up an AM radio station from Boston.
Finally, we landed in a permanent home in a mountain town in Vermont, the clock held steady, waking me mostly for early plane flights. It never failed me while I was flying and commuting across the country to speak. The alarm was never too drastic of a wakeup call as it was always set to the morning radio DJs' soothing voices. On my bedside, it withstood 9/11, family deaths and a financial crisis.
The rare blip was when the power went out. I knew exactly what time the power had stopped whether I was home or not. In our small town, more often, the power blinked, and my clock radio may have skipped a beat but kept on ticking. It has been a reliable constant in my life, looking almost as good as the day I unwrapped it.
Never Considered a New Model
By then, I awoke naturally and then lay in bed anticipating the morning. Or during the week, the neighbor would start his truck like clockwork at 6:15 and I knew it was time to get up. The neighborhood sounds became predictable in my life.
There was never a time it crossed my mind to get an updated clock radio. It worked. I liked it. And on a good clear night, long before the internet made all things possible, I could pick up an AM radio station from Boston making me feel nostalgic.
Into a marriage and through the years of teaching in academia, this trusty companion kept me informed of the time if not always on time. And it was there when I returned from my final 50-states trip. Always awaiting my return.
My brother, too, kept his clock radio. Though in his case, as he was more of a night owl, his was battered and beaten from his resistance to the alarm's charms. I can see him in my mind's eye reaching across and often dropping it to try and turn off the alarm. His looked worse for wear, but he liked his old reliable and he kept his till the day he died.
Finally, Its Time Has Come
I intended to do the same. However, two nights ago I was awakened by a buzzing noise. My first reaction was "What is outside?" But my window was closed. I checked the humidifier, but it was off. Finally, I turned on the rather bright nightstand light to check the heat that must be making the noise beside my bed under the window. Instead, I learned my clock radio whose alarm was not set, whose radio was not on, had started making its own noise. A noise of protest.
I unplugged it, hoping a rest would give it what it needs. Stuck at 10:48 p.m. Praying it works because after almost five decades I cannot think of anything else that has remained in my life this long — through ups and downs, love affairs and moves.
I cannot think of anything else that has remained in my life this long.
Despite my hope, the hands do not move again.
Do I have a funeral for it? Does General Electric even make clock radios anymore? I do not know if I will get another one. This passing I am not taking lightly. It is too good for the dump. Too solid to trash it. Maybe someone can repair it, someone with 50 years of knowledge — old-fashioned electrical plug knowledge.
People talk of buying quality and holding on to what they have. I live it.
