Ah, the good ol' days when having built a "radio" of your own was a big thing.
Dark rainy nights driving the hill country of Maryland, Pennsylvania and Virginia on "road trips", the slow down then pause of the vacuum powered wipers as you climbed the hills followed by the sudden slap, slap, slap once you crested the ridge and WWVA on the Am radio, fading in and out depending on which side of the mountain you happened to be on.
The quite time after midnight when the "stations" went to full power, the room lighted by the glow from the dial as you gently turned forward and backwards searching for a skip, WWL or WWVA or WBAL or the jewel of WHBQ.
Aslan is not a
Tame Lion
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