When I moved back to Minnesota at the age of 10 I bought a one-transistor radio with $1.99 of my allowance. It was a small plastic rocket-shaped object, and you tuned it by adjusting a wire projecting from the nose cone of the rocket. At night, WCCO 8-3-0 was broadcasting at 50,000 watts, and swamped all the other stations with the strength of its signal. I didn't care. I lay in bed and loved the soothing sounds of the professional radio announcers who gave me news, weather and music from space. No matter how sophisticated my home digital entertainment becomes, WCCO radio will always have magical connotations for me.
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