An elderly woman put an old cupboard up for sale last december, the story goes like this:
She had it for years and with its suitable height it saw use as the platform for the family telly.
It was empty inside and she thought long and hard about what to put in there. It would be a
shame not to use the considerable amount of storage space it could provide but, knowing that access to
the cupboard contents would be a bit difficult, she decided that the garden chair cushions and carpets
would be about the only perfect things to fit in there since they wouldn't require access more than twice a year.
You see, the problem with this cupboard was that it opened at the top rather than the front so the
big television set had to be lifted off to open the lid and she was not able to do that on her own.
It was a nice looking piece of furniture and it was taken great care of for many years but the day came
when a new flatscreen TV entered the building. With the new purchase fixed directly onto the wall, the
cupboard was now only in the way.
That is, up until now it had served two functions, a primary and a secondary, but from now on it would
only do one, that being the secondary, and that wasn't quite enough to justify its presence so therefore
the garden accessories found other means of winter storage and the cupboard was put up for sale.
I bought it.
The nice old lady asked me what on earth made a person make a roundtrip of apprx 800 Km plus
an expensive bridge in minus 15 degrees C, on extremely icy roads and with high winds to pick up this old thing ?
I told her that the sole reason I did this, was that I have been collecting old radios for more than 35 years.
Not quite understanding the connection, she asked me again: "But why this cupboard, then ?".
I turned it around and pointed at the backside: "You see, it says Bang & Olufsen on the back, it's
an old radiogram cabinet!".
- "Ah..", she said, "- so the heart-shaped cutout with the cloth at the front is where the music would come out?".
- "Exactly!"
She had wondered about that for years and never quite figured it out but she liked the look of it nevertheless.
- "But it's empty", she said, almost excusing herself.
- "Yes, I know", I replied, " - you stated that in the ad, but I hope to fill it up again with what was originally in there".
She wished me the best of luck, surely shaking her head in disbelief as I disappeared around the
first corner, most likely assuming I must be nuts.
Little did she know just how correct her assumption was.
And this is how the story about this Master 38RG project begins. Where it (if it ever) ends, noone knows.
Martin
