Digging into the known-broken pieces, but only intending to look at the at the “Press For Top Tunes” button and associated electro-mechanical accoutrement this evening…
Tonight’s title card, which was revealed when I removed the Top Tunes box from the bottom of the cabinet:
Which fits, given the effect the pandemic has had on all of us. Looking out my window at an empty San Francisco street, and looking through the window at the back of the jukebox into the inner workings of a neglected relic.
This sort of thing is endlessly entertaining for me. These machines were made with maintenance in mind. Just like your source code should be. If changes in jukebox music media hadn’t obsolesced the 45, so many more of these would have survived, simply because maintenance was such a straightforward process. The relationship of the object to its owner was different in 1963 than what we have in 2021, if we can infer anything from the care and attention paid to the maintenance and repair tasks required to keep this machine in good running order. Now, we just throw broken things away and get all new things. Repair is seldom demed worth the effort, and complex components or entire appliances are sent to the landfill. What a waste. There’s satisfaction in taking good care of what you have, in keeping a well-made machine in serviceable condition. Modern products largely deny us this satisfaction in favor of completely disposeable products. The entire thing is a consumable.
Lift the door on the front, and you can swap out records. Pull a couple of pins on the lid and the title board swings down. All the fluorescent lights can be swapped in a matter of seconds. This is a maintenance delight.
Oddly enough, this jukebox reminds me of my grandmother’s oven. It was an enameled steel oven built into the wall, and probably insulated with asbestos. It might burn out an element every decade or so, and the clock never worked, but the rest of it was built to outlast the human species. When the pandemic takes us all and the corvids become the dominant species, at least they won’t have to worry about making all new kitchen appliances once they figure out the power grid. The Frigidaire ovens from the 1960s will still work. Hopefully they won’t need to tell time, because as solid as all the old appliances were, mid-century clocks were abject crap.
Looking into the back, and finding more of that lovely patina of age and neglet. The Top Tunes selector control box cleaned up at least well enough to read the labels, and getting that particular part removed and reinstalled was fast enough.
That was quicker than expected. Let’s go ahead and see what’s going on with the amp.
Again, that thoughtful design. Unscrew one anchor and the entire amp swings out for easy service (cleaning) access.
And if you think that’s rough…
And now I have a dustbuster full of antique spider parts.
I was a little concerned with the dust on the vacuum tubes. Knowing they get hot when in use, this seemed like a situation where they wouldn’t last long with all that dust caked on them.
Glass shines up much better than the rusted metal around it:
Moving closer still to a state where I’m comfortable powering it up. Stay tuned…