As a boy, I loved to listen to my parent’s old radio/phonograph player. It was set in a beautiful wooden cabinet, and I was often fascinated by the glowing tubes that warmed up to receive radio signals or the stack of records that dropped one at a time so the arm could gently place the needle on that record.
One of my favorite songs of the day was called “I’m My Own Grandpa.” It was a humorous ballad about a man who, through a variety of marriages and family relations, became his own grandfather.
