The video begins with the removal of the round CRT tube. Once it’s extracted from the set, it’s placed in a round garbage can which serves as a handy work stand for the unique device. It’s all delicate work as it’s very easy to damage a picture tube, particularly an old one. Removing the discoloration is quite a job—the problem is caused by adhesive holding the front layer safety glass on, which has going bad over the years. It requires lots of heat to remove. In doing this repair, [bandersentv] notes he’s also giving up the safety of the original extra glass layer on the front of the tube. Worth noting if you’re worried about a given tube’s integrity.
Of course, cleaning the tube is just part of the job. [bandersentv] then gave us a second video in which he returns the tube to its original home and gets the TV back up and running. The quality is surprisingly good given what poor shape the tube was in to begin with.
It’s been a long time since the family TV has had a CRT in it, and even longer since that it was using what was basically an overgrown oscilloscope tube. But “roundies” were once a thing, and even back in the early 80s you’d still find them in living rooms on TV repair calls, usually sporting a characteristic and unsightly bullseye discoloration.
Fast-forward a few decades, and roundy TVs have become collectible enough that curing their CRT cataracts is necessary for restorationists like [shango066], a skill he demonstrates in the video below. The defect comes from the composite construction of CRTs — a safety feature added by television manufacturers wisely concerned with the safety aspects of putting a particle accelerator with the twin hazards of high vacuum and high voltage in the family home. The phosphor-covered face of the tube was covered by a secondary glass cover, often tinted and frosted to improve the admittedly marginal viewing experience. This cover was often glued in place with an epoxy resin that eventually oxidized from the edges in, making the bullseye pattern.
The remedy for this problem? According to [shango066], it’s heat, and plenty of it. After liberating the tube from the remarkably clean TV chassis, he took advantage of a warm summer’s day and got the tube face cooking under a black plastic wrap. Once things were warmed up, more heat was added to really soften the glue; you can easily see the softening progress across the face of the tube in the video below. Once softened, gentle prying with wooden chopsticks completes the job of freeing the safety lens, also in remarkably good shape.
With the adhesive peeled off in an oddly satisfying manner, all that’s left is a thorough cleaning and gluing the lens back on with a little silicone sealant around the edges. We’d love to see the restored TV in operation, but that’s left to a promised future video. In the meantime, please enjoy a look at the retro necessities TV owners depended on in the good old days, which really weren’t all that good when you get down to it.
It is hard to imagine that a handful of decades ago, TV wasn’t a thing. We’ve talked a few times about the birth of television. After an admittedly slow slow start, it took over like wildfire. Of course, anything that sells millions will spawn accessories. Some may be great. Then there are others.
We wanted to take a nostalgic look back at some of the strange add-ons people used to put on or in their TVs. Sure, VCRs, DVD players, and video game consoles were popular. But we were thinking a little more obscure than that.
Rabbit Ears
A state-of-the-art set of rabbit ears from the 1970s
Every once in a while, we see an ad or a box in a store touting the ability to get great TV programming for free. Invariably, it is a USB device that lets you watch free streaming channels or it is an antenna. There was a time when nearly all TVs had “rabbit ears” — so called because they made an inverted V on the top of your set.
These dipoles were telescoping and you were supposed to adjust them to fit the TV station you were watching but everyone “knew” that you wanted them as long as possible at all times. Holding one end of them gave it a ground and would give you a major improvement in picture. People also liked to wrap tin foil around the tips. Was it like a capacitive hat? We aren’t sure.
The better rabbit ears had knobs and switches along with multiple elements. If you lived close to a TV station, you probably didn’t need much. If you didn’t, no number of fancy add-ons would likely help you. Continue reading “Retro Gadgets: Things Your TV No Longer Needs”→
Watch out, Gen X-ers — there’s a nostalgia overload heading your way, courtesy of this over-the-air TV simulator. And it has us feeling a little Saturday morning cartoon-ish, or maybe even a bit Afterschool Special.
[Shane C Mason]’s “FieldStation42” build centers around a period-correct color TV, and rightly so — a modern TV would be jarring here, and replacing the CRT in this irreplaceable TV would be unthinkable. Programming comes via painstakingly collected sitcoms, dramas, news broadcasts, and specials, all digitized and stored on disk and organized by the original networks the programs came from. Python running on a Raspberry Pi does the heavy lifting here, developing a schedule of programs for the week that makes sense for the time of day — morning news and talk, afternoon soaps, the usual family hour and prime time offerings, and finally [Carson] rounding out the day, because that’s all we had for late night.
As for switching between stations, rather than risk damaging the old TV, [Shane] really upped his nostalgia game and found an old antenna rotator control box. These were used to steer the directional antenna toward different transmitters back in the day, especially in fringe areas like the one he grew up in. He added a set of contacts to the knob and a Pi Pico, which talks to the main Pi and controls which “channel” is being viewed. He also added an effect of fading and noise in the video and audio between channels, simulating the antenna moving. The video below shows it in action.
For those who missed the Golden Age of TV, relax; as [Shane] correctly surmises after going through this whole project, Golden Ages only exist in your mind. Things were certainly different with 70s mass media, a fact which this build captures neatly, but that doesn’t mean they were better. Other than Saturday mornings, of course — those were objectively better in every way.
The Hackaday comments section is generally a lively place. At its best, it’s an endless wellspring of the combined engineering wisdom of millions of readers which serves to advance the state of the art in hardware hacking for all. At its worst — well, let’s just say that at least it’s not the YouTube comments section.
Unfortunately, there’s also a space between the best and the worst where things can be a bit confusing. A case in point is [Bryan Cockfield]’s recent article on a stealth antenna designed to skirt restrictions placed upon an amateur radio operator by the homeowners’ association (HOA) governing his neighborhood.
Hiding an antenna in plain sight.
Putting aside the general griping about the legal and moral hazards of living under an HOA, as well as the weirdly irrelevant side-quest into the relative combustibility of EVs and ICE cars, there appeared to be a persistent misapprehension about the reality of the US Federal Communications Commission’s “Over-the-Air Reception Devices” rules. Reader [Gamma Raymond] beseeched us to clarify the rules, lest misinformation lead any of our readers into the unforgiving clutches of the “golf cart people” who seem to run many HOAs.
According to the FCC’s own OTARD explainer, the rules of 47 CFR § 1.400 are intended only to prevent “governmental and nongovernmental restrictions on viewers’ ability to receive video programming signals” (emphasis added) from three distinct classes of service: direct satellite broadcasters, broadband radio service providers, and television broadcast services.
Specifically, OTARD prevents restrictions on the installation, maintenance, or use of antennas for these services within limits, such as dish antennas having to be less than a meter in diameter (except in Alaska, where dishes can be any size, because it’s Alaska) and restrictions on where antennas can be placed, for example common areas (such as condominium roofs) versus patios and balconies which are designated as for the exclusive use of a tenant or owner. But importantly, that’s it. There are no carve-outs, either explicit or implied, for any other kind of antennas — amateur radio, scanners, CB, WiFi, Meshtastic, whatever. If it’s not about getting TV into your house in some way, shape, or form, it’s not covered by OTARD.
It goes without saying that we are not lawyers, and this is not to be construed as legal advice. If you want to put a 40′ tower with a giant beam antenna on your condo balcony and take on your HOA by stretching the rules and claiming that slow-scan TV is a “video service,” you’re on your own. But a plain reading of OTARD makes it clear to us what is and is not allowed, and we’re sorry to say there’s no quarter for radio hobbyists in the rules. This just means you’re going to need to be clever about your antennas. Or, you know — move.
When we talk about audio amplifier tubes, we’re normally talking about the glass little blobby things you might find in a guitar amplifier. We’re not normally talking about big ol’ color CRTs, but apparently they can do the job too. That’s what [Termadnator] is here to show us.
The CRT in question is a 14″ unit from a common garden variety Philips color TV. [Termadnator] pulled out the TV’s original circuitry, and replaced much of it with his own. He had to whip up a high-voltage power supply with a 555 and a laptop power supply, along with a bunch of fake MOSFETs pressed into service. He also had to build his own Leyden jar capacitor, too. The specifics of converting it to audio operation get a bit messy, but fear not—[Termadnator] explains the idea well, and also supplies a schematic. Perhaps the coolest thing, though, is the crazy color pattern that appears on the display when it’s working as an amp.
Sound output isn’t exactly loud, and it’s a little distorted, too. Still, it’s amusing to see an entire TV instead doing the job of a single amplifier tube. Video after the break.
[Sharad Shankar] repaired a broken TV by swapping out the cracked and malfunctioning image panel for a new one. Now, part-swapping is a great way to repair highly integrated modern electronics like televisions, but the real value here is something else. He documented his fix but the real useful part is his observations and guidance on how to effectively look for donor devices when the actual model of donor device can’t be found.
The usual approach to fixing a device by part swapping is to get one’s hands on two exact same models that are broken in different ways. But when it comes to consumer electronics with high turnovers — like televisions — it can be very difficult to actually locate any particular model once it’s no longer on shelves. [Sharad Shankar]’s broken TV was a 65″ TCL R646 purchased in 2021, and searching for a second 65″ TCL R646 was frankly like looking for a needle in a haystack. That’s when he got a visit from the good ideas fairy. Continue reading “How To Find Replacement Parts When Model Numbers Don’t Match”→
