Do You Hear What I Hear?

The FM transmitter Greg bought last week was crap, and we needed one that worked well, else nobody would be able to understand why we had seizure-inducing flashes going in front of our house.  And while this is, after all, Jefferson County, we can’t exactly erect loudspeakers or tap into the tornado sirens to broadcast our music.

So Greg went and bought a kit from a local electronics store, and then did this to the kitchen table:


The crayons and cars?  Also his.


Anyway, after many hours of soldering, admonishing Ethan to stay back from the iron, and cross words between us about measuring voltage across a resistor, we had something like this:




Just as I knew it would, despite Greg’s self-doubt. He’s brilliant, and I had faith in his abilities.

And now, after putting out a sign and a spotlight giving passersby the correct frequency, we have people stopping in front of our house all night long.  Nice, eh?