I must have been about 7or 8 years old and I had saved some money for a small transistor radio. It was a typical unit from the day (back in the sixties) 8 transistor handheld.
I would play it while in bed at night and carry it around with me. I loved that thing. My dad of course would yell at me to turn it down. Funny, he had the big stereo with tubes and honkin Western Electric field coil drivers, and he was telling me MY radio was too loud ...
One day he took it and told me was going to ‘fix it’ for me so the batteries would last longer. When he gave it back it no longer would play louder than a whisper.
I was crushed. It felt to me at the time like the scene in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest where they took McMurphy’s mind and he became a veg.
I just wanted my radio to have it’s voice back.
That’s what I miss