1/5/01

I listen to NPR radio exclusively, and it’s frustrating that since we live about forty miles from the FM transmitter at Norman, Oklahoma’s KGOU—nearly the end of its effective broadcasting range—it requires outlandish efforts to coax its beleaguered signal into our house. Outside, in the driveway, it comes in tantalizingly clear on my pickup’s radio. Yet our stereo, sitting beneath the window in our home’s northeast corner which points directly toward Norman, delivers about one-third KGOU, one-third static, and another third that varies consistently between: a country music station (George Strait, as we speak), ‘60s nostalgia hits, or Mexican top forty (with ads like Especial! Especial! Muy muchos coches a los precios bajos en Oklahoma City!).

But don’t think I haven’t experimented with elaborate antenna setups. A local electronics guru suggested hooking up to our TV antenna, via a signal splitter. Done. And no go. An engineer at KGOU gave me some ideas, which resulted in a wire snaking through the dining-room and kitchen to the back door where its bare copper end and a screw teamed up with the aluminum storm door to make an antenna of it. Pretty fair success on that deal, until I came home one day and found the wire wadded up in the trash and my wife’s narrow-eyed look clarifying how soon I could resurrect that rig.

The most workable innovation I’ve come up with is a wire antenna diagonally up across the window, resulting in (in all but the most cooperative weather) static-filled All Things Considered backed by south-of-the-border trumpets, accordion, and Yah-ha-ha-ha chorus.

In playing with every conceivable antenna configuration, I’ve found that standing by the stereo and holding the wire I get a clear signal. And—talk about insult added to injury—by letting go of the wire and standing directly over the stereo with arms extended, I seem to function very well as a free-standing antenna, but only in that one position. It’s not a pose in which I can read or do anything much at all beyond bringing in a signal. I’ve been known to stand this way throughout B. B. King’s “The Night Life Ain’t No Good Life, But It’s My Life.” But under most other circumstances—I have a life, however unproductive it might appear.

I’ve even wondered about positioning something similar to myself next to the stereo. Assuming that the human body is primarily water (what, eighty-six percent or some such?) and a little flesh, maybe a I could replicate myself with a perhaps a baked ham in a tall tank of water. But I’m guessing that, domestically speaking, I’d have better luck with the storm door.

If anyone can advise me further, I’d appreciate the help.