Watching the Radio

When I was a young'n the radio was about the best thing ever invented. Every day after school I would rush home for my favorite radio show: Jack Armstrong, the All American Boy. Jack was my hero. He was a good athlete and everybody's favorite, but what I liked best was his travels all around the world. Jack had this uncle who was called to duty to solve all kinds of problems in countries that I could only travel to by way of that old Philco sitting in my grandfather's living room. Luckily, the room was unoccupied at the four o'clock hour and I could take off my shoes and lie down on the floor and embark on trips to all those exotic places. I would stare at the cloth cover over the speakers and see the characters and the settings as clearly as if they were on a TV screen (at least that's how I remember it.) Years later they came out with a movie about Jack Armstrong. The actor playing Jack did not remotely resemble the character I had watched on the radio every afternoon. Man, was I disappointed. It was if the Jack I saw had died and this sissy-looking Hollywood type had moved into his house and taken over his life. There was just something about watching that old radio that can't be duplicated on a TV screen. Ain't imagination one of the best blessing we have been given.