That evening, the street gate opened with a creak, and I saw my father crossing the threshold and walking into the yard with his bicycle on his shoulder. A small black box was swaying beside him, and parts of it were shining silver from time to time. of light. Our brother and sister quickly ran out of the house to see what was going on: it turned out to be a radio. It was about a Saturday in 1971 that my father, who worked in the county government, came back from work.
Well, a pocket radio, less than 20 centimeters wide and less than 10 centimeters high. After entering the house, we admired it happily. There were red trademarks and writing on the front, and the edges of the round speakers and some decorative strips were still electroplated and polished. The small and exquisite body is housed in a black partially hollowed leather case, half-covering the face like holding a pipa, which adds a hazy beauty. It looks so beautiful and exquisite. I looked left and right and rubbed it, but I couldn't get enough of it. When my father turned on the phone, selected a channel, and played beautiful songs, I suddenly felt elated and intoxicated. To the ears that were so hungry and tasteless at the time, it was the sound of nature. Now I can’t remember what program I listened to that day, but my excitement and excitement are still fresh in my memory.
The radio is so good! The volume can be adjusted at will, and you can choose from many radio stations. You can choose which station or program you want to listen to according to your temperament! The sound is clear and the sound quality is wonderful. If this one doesn’t sound good, choose another one; if you’ve heard enough of that one, then switch to another channel. Oh, so many stations are really exciting! It's not like a radio network. You can't adjust the volume, the sound is vague, just a dull, hoarse, listless voice, and you can only listen to it honestly.
There are also many radio programs! There are international and domestic news events, local operas, operas and dance dramas, and Peking Opera model plays; there are new and old songs, and even foreign songs; especially my favorite violin music; there are Pingtan and cross talk (but no sketches. Radio sketches and TV sketches (only available in the 1980s) and other rap programs as well as industry information, encyclopedic knowledge, and new life knowledge. There are songs, tunes, and light music every day, with the emphasis on "red songs and red tunes", which bear the distinctive "red + revolution" brand of that era. Later, there were also serial broadcasts of novels and storytelling. Later, there were radio dramas and film recordings and edits, from which we listened to many classic Chinese and foreign old movies, including feature films, war films, dance dramas, musicals, etc., which gave us endless joy and comfort in our lonely country life. Through the radio, I got acquainted with many famous Chinese and foreign songs adapted into light music.
At that time, there were no electric lights, telephones, books or newspapers in rural areas, and they were basically isolated from the outside world. The only connection was the slender soft line of the cable broadcast network.
Later, radio stations could provide on-demand programs. As a music lover, I wrote written letters to the Yantai People's Broadcasting Station to request songs such as "Walking with You" and "Doremi", as well as excerpts from the model opera "Haigang", "Dujuan Mountain", "Ashima", and the dance drama "Red Detachment of Women". Listening to the radio program that is played just for you is very useful and cool!
Scarce things, especially those that are new, are naturally as valuable as gold. At first, my parents didn't let me move around, for fear of damaging it. When the adults were not at home, I secretly selected the channel and listened quietly to my ear. From time to time I look at the street gate and turn off my phone immediately when I see the adults come back. After a while, the policy was relaxed. But when selecting a channel, don't let it turn too fast for fear of damaging it.
In order to save electricity, my parents did not turn up the volume. There was no AC power supply at that time, so dry batteries were used. In those days when you didn’t have enough food, clothing or warmth, how could you be willing to spend money on batteries to listen to the radio? It's really unaffordable. Sometimes if the volume is turned up too loud, my parents will scold me: Why are you making it so loud? As long as you can hear it, it’s really hard to live! Master Pu'er! Then quickly lower the volume. This restriction was not lifted until the village bought a generator to power the house and my family bought a desktop radio. At this point, I can finally let go of my courage and listen with my ears open. The loud and real music is the real artistic enjoyment!
The battery ran out and I couldn’t listen to the radio for a long time because I couldn’t bear to buy it. There is always a way to get through poor times: put the battery on a hot stove to bake or expose it to the sun. When it is heated, it will have a little electricity, and you can listen to it for a short time; wait until the electricity is finished, heat it again and let it dry before listening. For a while. After several attempts, I still couldn't bear to throw it away. My father didn't know where he learned the trick. He used an awl to drill a few holes in the front cover of the battery shoulder, poured vinegar into them, and the sound continued for a while. It wasn't until all attempts were exhausted and I could no longer hear any sound that I reluctantly threw away the battery. How were the days at that time! Every household is so frugal! As someone who has experienced it, there are some things that even I find incredible now.
At first, my father was off work and brought the radio back to listen to, and then took it away when he went to work. After a while, just put it at home and we can listen to it at any time. The countryside is surrounded by huts, chickens and dogs. Soon, the neighbors knew about it, followed the sound and started to listen. Gradually, it attracted many villagers, who all loved to listen to it and were extremely envious of it. In the east room of the main room, everyone sat on a Kang, on square stools, and on the ground. Then it was spread from ten to ten, and the audience grew more and more. The east room couldn't hold it, so they stood on the floor of the main room and squeezed into the space between the two large brick pots on the east and west. Later, when the two rooms could no longer be accommodated, I would stand in the yard on warm days, or bring benches of various sizes to sit in the yard and listen to the program. I opened the wooden lattice window covered with glossy paper to transmit the sound, and turned the radio volume to the maximum to ensure that people in the courtyard could hear clearly. In that scene, the windows were like movie screens, and everyone gathered around the windows to listen as if they were watching a movie. No wonder, this is the first radio in the village, so it is very rare.
We were still young at that time, and we often moved stools and gave up our seats to our neighbors. There are always some folks who are too embarrassed to sit inside the kang. They usually only sit on the edge of the kang and do not sit inside. There are always some empty places on the earthen kang. We yelled first, and before we even got on the kang, we held hands and dragged them to the kang. This frees up space on the floor of the house for more people to stand.
In winter too, many people at home and outside were listening and discussing. People outside were freezing, sometimes stamping their feet from the cold. After hearing the good program, everyone laughed excitedly, felt very happy and relaxed. From time to time someone will say it sounds really nice. Inside and outside the window, there was a lot of lively laughter and laughter. The inside of the house is like a small theater, and the yard becomes an open-air small cinema.
I remember that almost every day I heard that there was no station, so I reluctantly turned off the radio. The radio stations at that time were not like the 24-hour rolling broadcasts today. The dispersed villagers were chatting and laughing as they walked out, immersed in the atmosphere of recalling the good show; as they walked far away, their cheerful chatter and laughter could still be heard from time to time; we brothers and sisters were cleaning up and sleeping, separated by the inner wall The inner disciple admired it, chewed it over and over again with great relish, and was so intoxicated that he couldn't extricate himself.
I remember that I later bought two desktop radios at home, the Chunlei brand and the Red Light brand. They were placed on a three-drawer cabinet and had two speakers, high and low, which were considered relatively rudimentary stereos. But there is absolutely no comparison with today's stereo.
After the radio came out, it gradually replaced the broadcast network. In the mid-1980s, single-player players (which only played but did not record) and tape recorders came on the market, especially the later dual-use recorders. Radio began to decline and gradually faded away. Today, few people listen to the radio. That is to say, occasionally the grandparents in the streets will listen to the opera while walking, or three or five people will sit on the street corner to listen to the opera in their spare time.
Nowadays, very few people buy radios directly. Various mobile phones, including MP3, MP4, MP5, CD, VCD, CVD, DVD, EVD, netbooks, PDAs, tablets, laptops, etc., can be carried around and play programs and music in various formats. Many of them also have built-in radio functions. Therefore, in a broad sense, radio has not been eliminated, but has been grafted and bundled, and they have joined forces to create a stage and perform on some wider and bigger stages.
I still remember that in those years, on warm days, the family sat in the yard, sitting on small benches around the small dining table, listening to the radio while eating dinner, and the radio was placed on the windowsill; on hot summer nights, after dinner, He often wears briefs and bare his back, and lies on the roof of the east wing with his father and brother listening to the radio. They spread out a cattail mat or bamboo mat; each holds a banana leaf fan in his hand and shakes it to cool himself down or beats himself to catch up. Mosquitoes; sometimes they light a plate of mosquito repellent incense next to them; they talk about the North Star and the Big Dipper, and look at the stars in the sky, which are set in the blue and unpredictable sky; they also chat a few words from time to time and comment on good programs. It’s like a fairy life. . Once, I accidentally heard a piece of violin music played by Li Jun, who had just won the first prize in the International Violin Competition. Oh my, I was fascinated immediately; later, I heard Xue Wei, the first prize winner in the International Violin Competition (now a world-class violin master) played, I immediately became drunk and "unconscious". Those moving famous songs endow our barren and pale life and spirit with colorful and infinite joy.
On such a heart-warming night, in the wonderful and intoxicating music, the entire sleeping summer night seemed to wake up; the stars began to blink and dance; my heart also bloomed in the music, accompanying it from afar Starlight, chatting with it, soaring and rippling in the sky on the notes...