Dear Transistor Radio
You were a fly in the ear of my youth
My Ricky Nelson crooning heart
My hard black plastic soul
I remember my eager fingers
Laboring to dial some radio station
And be the 7th caller
You taught me the music of love
We harmonized to the mirror
Danced cheek to cheek
How many nights you laid
On the pillow beside me
Whispering sweet nothings
My father brought home a Plymouth with fins
My sister held a wedding for the Potato Heads
And my mother discovered Tupperware
I’m sorry I cheated on you
The 45s wooed and I swooned
But a girl never forgets her first
17 thoughts on "Dear Transistor Radio"
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Well penned. Brings back great memories!
We only had the one radio when I was growing up. It was set on a station our folks listened to. We’d switch to a station that played our kind of music when the folks were out of the house and rushed to switch it back when we heard them coming home. Like John says, thanks for the memories!
The last two stanzas are soooo fun to read. Love the father, sister, and mother sequence and the overall apostrophe form turning the radio into a lover!
I love love “My Ricky Nelson crooning heart/My hard black plastic soul”
An intimacy in cherishing this past and you do it skillfully
Love the flow of this poem. Such a memory. Transistors provided many of us with a sense of freedom and were easy to hide if we were listening after “lights out.”
This is amazing! As someone whose original career was in the terrestrial radio world, this fills my heart with joy!
I especially love:
“I remember my eager fingers
Laboring to dial some radio station
And be the 7th caller”
Remember the anxiety after dialing the last number and the disappointment when the busy signal spoke through the other end of the line?!?!?!
I love, love, LOVE this!
💜💜💜
“how many nights you laid/ On the pillow beside me/ Whispering sweet nothings ” Encapsulates my teenage life. well done.
Your poem captures how miraculous transistor radios were. The personal tone and word choices are really effective. Conger nostalgia like a spell. Well done.
A delightful poem. Thank you for reminding me of my transistor radio.
Wonderful. I remember having the transistor radio on my pillow, too.
Love this trip down memory lane with great details.
Brings back sweet memories.
Love: I remember my eager fingers
Laboring to dial some radio station
And be the 7th caller
Great landing to a great poem:
xI’m sorry I cheated on you
The 45s wooed and I swooned
But a girl never forgets her first
That last stanza! Really cute poem
Oh, what memories! Ours was a little red Japanese transistor mostly tuned to Phillies’ games. I love all the memories this poem brings back and the ending is perfect! (Sylvia – we are on some type of wavelength – I recently wrote a poem that mentions our little red transistor!)
The whispers of sweet nothings on the pillow is so charming.
There is something visceral about those older radios. Reading this was very nostalgic for me. Very well done.