Me, me, me

Adios, big-ass Telefunken stereo

Due to the receipt of a new gift-set of speakers and a newly-purchased TV stand (with storage), we've been moving things around in our living area and getting rid of a couple of things. The big speakers from the 70s are gone, as is the humungous Telefunken stereo console that was here when we moved in. We used to use this console for its turntable, and we loved the coolness of it, the reel-to-reel (just for aesthetics, we had no tapes to play on it) and the fact that the previous owners, both of whom died before we came to the house, so obviously loved and cherished this piece of technology/furniture. We had the owner's manual, every little accessory and even the bill for it from 1969. They paid over $600 for it then, so it was a valuable item at the time. We like old things, particularly 60s and 70s stuff, so we enjoyed having this beautiful oak behemoth in our midst. But once we stopped using it it really became a not-very-practical TV stand-cum-paper-piling-place and attracted so much clutter that I finally decided that it had to go.

I tried to find out whether anyone would buy it or take it off our hands for free. I did research on the net and ebay and even called up a guy in the newspaper who buys old stereo equipment. That dude told me that pretty much nobody wants these things. Too many of them out there, too big to collect, too heavy to move, etc. He seemed very knowledgable about it, and I took his word for it and gave up. But when we finally put it out for the big garbage pickup, I was hopeful that someone might drive by and want it badly enough to load it on to a truck and take it home. Then, tragically, it sleeted during the night and the weather, I thought, ruined any chances that that beautiful piece would be any good to anyone ever again. My heart hurt when I looked at it, covered in water and ice, and so forlorn. So much enjoyment and anticipation must have accompanied its purchase! One of the few things I know about the former owners of my house is that they liked to put on records and dance together in the living room. I know that the stereo is only a thing, and that it served its purpose for a long time, and that things have a life of usefulness and that that life ends eventually, but I felt guilty for deciding that this piece's useful life was over.

But then the next morning the stereo was gone, first thing, long before the big garbage pickup. So now I can imagine that, at the very least, someone was able to cannibalize it for parts and carry on some of its usefulness into another piece of equipment. Reincarnation, reuse, recycling.