Kids today take for granted the vast libraries of Spotify and other streaming platforms, with access to over one hundred million songs.

A child in the 1960s would have considered such a device as science fiction. Receiving a transistor radio for my ninth birthday made me feel as though I had hit the jackpot.

Those pocket-size radios looked super cool with their vibrant colors, space age styling, and leather-clad cases. Walking with my transistor radio in my pocket, I felt like an ’80s pimp carrying a boombox on their shoulder.

These ultra-portable radios looked nifty, but they had “tinny” sound quality due to small speakers. Tuning a transistor radio to get the best reception was a nightmare, it required careful adjustment, and the patience of a saint.

I enjoyed my transistor radio, often falling asleep listening to classics like Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” and Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.”

I miss my sweet little radio, good times never seemed so good. How I long for those pre-digital, pre-stereo halcyon days.

I can still see my pearly white transistor radio with a leather case; it is my Rosebud.