Wurlitzer Update #1: Amplifier Smoke Test

Since acquiring what is probably my most ambitious project to date, the 1937 Wurlitzer automatic phonograph (jukebox), model 616A, I've been mostly in research mode. I also acquired most of the parts my unit was missing, which is a pretty good accomplishment considering what it was lacking were some very hard-to-find pieces. The coin mechanism, for example, can cost hundreds of dollars, and that's if you can even find one (many coin mechanisms were removed from old machines by the vending companies so no one else could use the jukebox to compete against them). I went to an amazing old building in western Massachusetts that had three floors packed with antique jukebox parts, but even they didn't have many of the things I needed. Luckily, I found most of the parts I needed on a similar machine that was up for auction on eBay, and the seller agreed to remove and send them to me for a very good price.

One of those parts was the amplifier. Amps of this vintage are big, heavy things with lots of transformers and vacuum tubes. I had to find a few replacement tubes, and the power cord was just a couple of strands of wire blowing in the breeze, but when I rectified those problems I was ready for a smoke test. A smoke test is just what it sounds like: plug it in and look for smoke. Smoke, as in most other situations, usually means something is wrong. Well, the tubes lit up, and there was the faintest hum. Then a little crackling noise. And then, a little whisp of smoke coming from...somewhere. I checked the unit and tried a few more times, but no more smoke. The unit hasn't had power going through it in decades so it could have just been some dirt getting singed. But, the amp didn't go up in flames so I'm calling this a success. I'll have to wait to do some additional testing, but for now it looks like we have an amplifier.
-K

Like-Minded People Found

I am a tinkerer. I can often be found in the basement, taking apart some recently-acquired gadget, device, furniture, appliance, etc., or maybe putting it back together. Old bikes, radios, and oak furniture. Antique tools, modern machinery, mystery devices. The only thing I like more than finding them is studying them, understanding them, and when necessary, bringing them back to life. Broken things around the house get fixed. Discarded pieces of furniture get restored. Old machines work again. I am not an electrician, plumber, programmer, or carpenter, but I have done all of those things. Using my mind and my hands is part of the fun. Fixing or building something might be the end goal, but the learning and the puzzle-solving are just as important. I've recently come upon two individuals who not only live by the same credo, but have also promoted it amongst others, and seem to have made a decent living from it, too.

The first gentleman is Matthew B. Crawford, author of "Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry into the Value of Work." After working in an office, Mr. Crawford changed careers and opened a motorcycle repair business. He makes the argument that working with one's hands can involve just as much thinking, if not more, than that required in a white collar job. It seems sometimes that people in my generation almost regard blue-collar jobs as a failure of sorts, or perhaps as not living up to one's potential. I think that point of view not only does a dis-service to our fellow man, but also harms us as a nation. What kind of nation will we be when we don't use our hands, or even develop the minds to use them? I look forward to reading this book.

Then we have someone who goes by the name Mister Jalopy. He seems a lot like me...fixing old things, tinkering with technology, writing about it, except he's actually made a business out of it (several, it seems). He fixes old bicycles and sells them in his shop. He made an iPod interface out of an old console stereo. But one of his coolest ideas is the Maker's Bill of Rights, which says that "if you can't open it, you don't own it." I agree. It used to be that people expected the things they bought to last, and when they broke, they expected to be able to fix them, or to have them fixed. So much of what we buy today is impossible to fix, or even to open. Sure, electronics and appliances are a lot more complicated these days, but even some of the simpler tasks would be hard for a skilled professional. Ever try to open an iPod? It's not easy. The Maker's Bill of Rights says that you should be able to open, repair and modify the products you buy. Ok, so many of the things we buy now and in the future will probably be beyond understanding for most of us, but does that mean that manufacturers shouldn't keep us in mind when they make something? They should if they want us to buy it.
-K

House Filling Up with Antiquated Music Devices

Recent visitors to our humble abode have probably noticed new antiques sprouting up here and there. First there was the Victrola, purchased last year and installed in a corner of the dining room. It's a marvel of manual music that never fails to bring a smile to everyone that sees it. My own smiles were lacking for a while as the 90-year old mechanism had to be disassembled, cleaned, and put back together shortly after I got it. The Victor Talking Machine Company isn't exactly honoring warranties anymore, but fortunately I like that kind of thing. She's finally playing outdated music again, and I still haven't heard all of the records that came with it.

Next up was the 1937 Zenith radio. That was an easier restoration, and I'll never have to worry about lubricating springs, although I suppose electricity brings its own set of problems. That's up and running in the office, and I'll probably refrain from getting any other old radios as long as it's around. Oh wait, there was an old Silvertone I found in the trash down the street. That one's currently in the basement; a future project.

The king daddy of them all, however, is a 1937 Wurlitzer jukebox. Technically it's an "automatic phonograph," as they hadn't coined the term "jukebox" at that point. I mulled this one over for some time, as it needs lots and lots of work. But, I just couldn't resist the challenge. I love old things and this one is just so neat. This project is definitely long-term, but I look forward to bringing the old thing back to life. Maybe by the time Keiran takes his first steps. That would be great, actually, since he could help me get it up the basement stairs.

You can see pictures of the Victrola here, and the Zenith here. Additional reading is available on the Projects page of CraterRanch.com.
-K

UPDATE: I have since sold the Zenith, which since posting this article had been sitting in the basement for protection from Keiran, and also to give him some more play space. It was a nice unit but it went to a good home and if I ever want another upstairs there are plenty out there to be had (not to mention a couple in the basement).

Official Launch of the Crater Ranch Blog

With our son on the way, and free time soon to be in short supply, I decided to give in to this blog fad and get one of our own. Like it's namesake, we'll use the Crater Ranch blog to post updates on our life, and for the immediate future, on the new member of the Crater Ranch staff, the as-yet unborn Keiran Ferguson.

So is this the end of CraterRanch.com? No! We'll still use that to post some more permanent posts, pictures, and projects. The blog will just allow us to post more things more quickly. Feel free to subscribe, or just check in often for news, entertainment, and distraction.

-K