Dear Sony MHC-2900
Thank you for 20+ years of faithful service. Looking at you languishing in my neighbour’s skip - into which I deposited you with their permission, I hasten to add - brings back fond teenage memories of listening to John Peel, Mark & Lard and The Evening Session late at night.
I always wondered why your entire volume range was within the first ten degrees of rotation, even though I could keep turning for at least 270. Why did you have so many equalizer modes? That Jazz one was awful. I don’t mind that you used to emit an angry, bassy buzz if I turned up the volume too loud (until my brother explained how to open your speakers and fix them up with a bit of Blu-tac). I forgive you for your LCD display being way too bright, blinking the time right next to my head all night long, because I got good at making little cardboard screens.
In return I hope you can forgive me for letting Iris post bricks into your woofers and making you rattle even more. I’m sorry about that time when we crashed a vacuum cleaner into you and broke your auxiliary ‘B’ tape deck up. By then though, tape was already an obsolete technology. I apologise unreservedly for playing Ocean Colour Scene on you. I regret the final indignity of knocking off your volume knob on the edge of the skip, and I promise to reunite your radio and amp main unit in hifi heaven with your ribbon-cable sibling, the CD and tape deck. As soon as I get it out of the attic.
Goodbye old friend.