Sunday 22 February 2009

CB Radio.

Back in the days before the advent of email and the mobile phone, there was of course, the communications medium known as CB radio. This was the one where people sat in their bedrooms with a two way attached to a big ariel and pretended that they were american truckers when communicating with each other using handles such as 'Big Bird' and 'Bouncygirl'. The problem with CB was that the radio transmissions did not always just reach those that they were intended for, but had a nasty habit of breaking into your neighbours TV in the middle of 'Coronation Street' with sometimes saucy messages being accompanied by loud bursts of static. The other problem was that, as with the internet, you might never be quite sure who you were dealing with. The girl who advertised herself as 'Babyblond' might just turn out to be 40, size 22 and with a bad case of Halitosis.

I wonde what happened to all that CB equipment when the craze passed. I wonder if there are still sets tucked away in the attic somewhere whose owners drag out sometimes and gaze nostogically at wondering wistfully if their lives would have taken a different course had they actually kept the date with 'Wonderwoman'.

If you were into CB, and would like to tell us your handle, the comments section is at your disposal.

1 comment:

babyblox said...

This report takes me back to Essex in the early 80s when a friend of mine with the handle Chicken George got into CB, much to the chagrin of his long suffering missus. He and his mates at the local all spent fortunes on CB rubbish and drove around the lanes of Essex giving one another meaningless messages about the "twenty" of the local "smokies", all delivered in a kind of Mississippi meets Dagenham drawl. One night he invited me to the "eyeball" which took place somewhere off the "superslab" (i.e. the M11). No real names or places were ever given over the air for fear that "busby" (i.e. the GPO) might be listening. As if they hadn't better things to do. We all met in some deserted barn where the guest of honour was Super-rat from "the Garrison Town" (i.e. some geek from Colchester). So "keep the shiny side up and the greasy side down till we meet again good buddy. 10/4 and out".