G is for GRAMOPHONE

I once heard my mum on the radio when I was travelling along in the car. It was a surprise, maybe more of a shock actually, for she never courted fame or publicity even if it was going to last only a few minutes. But this day she had put such irrelevances to the back of her mind when she lifted the phone to dial. It was a local BBC morning programme in which the presenter, at some stage, played a few seconds of a song and invited listeners to ring in with their answer. Mum sounded more formal, even more proper than usual, but this was radio, going out to the four corners of the province and you never knew who might be listening, so it was essential not to sound like you had just fallen out of a hedge. But there wasn't even a hint of humour in her voice, nor enjoyment that she was live to the nation and much as the presenter tried to stretch the interview with some polite yet pointless conversation, she had only one thought in her mind and would not be railroaded in another direction. I don't remember her complete answer but I do know that the voice in question belonged to a famous tenor from years gone by called John McCormack and that the presenter, though slightly surprised, had to admit that she was correct. I knew she had got it right anyway, so there was no need to hear the presenter's confirmation because she had told me the previous day that she knew the answer. You see, she had the very song in question on an old seventy-eight in a rather dilapidated cardboard box in an upstairs room.

The box had indeed seen better days and it contained a dozen or so seventy-eight records dating way back. They were made of shellac, I think, a much thicker and heavier material record than the LPs that would usurp their position by the sixties. We had a record player at the time which had, on its 'arm' a sort of double stylus to allow it to play both LPs and seventy-eights and you twisted a little tag at one end which was set at red for the newer records and green for the likes of John McCormack. But it was another old rickety box sitting upstairs that often grabbed my attention. I don't know how the gramophone came into our possession though I suspect mum had brought it from home. It was brown and badly scuffed on the outside but when opened, the hinged lid sat in an upright position exposing a beautiful silver turntable covered in a soft, rubber mat. On the right side was an ornate arm and what seemed like an intricate 'needle' arrangement that tracked the grooves on the records. There was no electricity or even battery supply to the unit, but a wind up handle on one side converted human power into motion and was more than sufficient to provide all the enjoyment required.

I often took out an old record from its paper sleeve and gave it a spin on the turntable. It seemed to move remarkably quickly and it was some time before my young, inquisitive mind began to piece together the jigsaw and come to the realisation that the meaning of seventy-eight, forty-five and thirty- three and a third was the number of times the record revolved on the turntable in one minute. My LP or should I say thirty-three and a third, seemed to rotate so slowly in comparison but it had two distinct advantages over its predecessor. First the seventy-eight record was so brittle that if it was dropped, most likely it would break into several pieces and thus be rendered unusable. But secondly and more importantly, the sound quality just didn't compare to that produced by the vinyl LPs and those two problems alone probably accelerated its demise as technology marched on. But it was still so exciting to a young mind, to be able to hear real live sound, recorded so many years previously from people now long gone and to do it all without the need for electricity.

Isn't it funny watching how, over the years, technology has changed and improved the way we listen to music, from 78s to LPs to CDs to MP3s but despite the advantages and drawbacks of each system, essentially all we want to do is to listen to music. With each new advance, there are always those who refuse to move on, who are quite happy with a gramophone in preference to an ipod. I suppose, in our churches, things are not a lot different in our approach to telling others about Jesus and there can often be an attitude of, 'if it was good enough for my father, it's good enough for me.' While I don't discard such opinions, it always leaves me wondering 'but is that good enough for everybody'. We live in a different world to the one I even knew as a boy, in a world where each generation is less steeped in church and one in which children no longer know basic Bible stories. We constantly come into contact with non-church attenders so can we still apply 78 methods to an ipod generation. I'm not so sure. A friend of mine often says in his approach to evangelism that he wants to be radical and conservative. Paul, in his letter to the Hebrews writes that 'Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.' Let's face it. We want everyone to hear the same music, for He hasn't changed but we're no longer a generation of gramophone players!