%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
| September 25th, 2025 On this day in 1928, Chicago’s new Galvin Manufacturing Corporation is officially incorporated. In 1930, Galvin would introduce the Motorola radio, the first mass-produced commercial car radio. (The name had two parts: “motor” evoked cars and motion, while “ola” derived from “Victrola” and was supposed to make people think of music.) Prompt: Did you know car radios had been around this long? What year was your first car? Did you listen to the radio when you're driving or did you prefer silence? How about now music or silence? ========================================================= My first car was an eight year old, high mileage, ‘57 Ford Fairlane 500, blue and white. In a move completely out of character for them, my parents bought me the car without consultation with me, and without my ever asking. I suspect they just wanted me out of the house. In addition to providing the luxury of leaving for school a whopping 15 minutes later than when I was walking, I quickly found myself with more ‘friends.’ With very few exceptions, I was never convinced whether most of them hung out with me for me or my car. One of the exceptions was Kevin with whom I formed a comfortable co-dependent relationship. He had a surfboard, but no car. Me, the opposite. In summer, we spent countless days at the beach sharing that surfboard, rain or shine. Sometimes we had other kids with us in the Ford. Other days other friends would take the train then find us surfing or tanning. The Fairlane was solid car, regardless of the six digit odometer reading. I talked to people who knew car maintenance, including the auto shop teacher at school, and learned to do most of the work myself. Partly to save money, partly because deep down I’d learned to never really trust anyone. For the same reason, though I often listened to the rock ‘n roll stations in the area, I kept the volume moderate. I liked to sing along, since in those days you could actually hear the lyrics, but I knew better than to let someone in the back seat, or anywhere else on the road, catch me off guard. This is the result of growing up in a violently abusive family. I miss that reliable old car. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
