Oh man. So like, aren’t CB radios way overdue for a comeback? Ditto for the lingo. I don’t fare too well with Tweet-speak. SMS shorthand like 2moro and ROTFLMFAO are efficient but lack poetry. And I have never in my life typed the abbreviation for laughing out loud. (If you’re determined to chuckle in three characters, what’s wrong with heh?)
CB culture came with a far richer patois. It combined outlaw slang with the rhythmic patter of an auctioneer. You might tune in a channel and hear some jibber jabber like, “We got smokies wall to wall and ten feet tall. I’m gonna hit the pickle park.” (Translation: The police are everywhere. I’m pulling over at the next rest stop.)
The physical CB console was a miracle of mounted mobile circuitry. It had switches, dials and meters that invited continuous calibration. The microphone was holstered on the side and tethered by a rubber coil that jangled with the motion of your truck.
While the CB radio has mostly died off, it’s survived by its cousin, the walkie-talkie. As a kid my favorite toy was a pair of walkie-talkies, each one the size of a loaf of bread. They had a range of maybe 20 feet, and mostly just emitted crackly bursts of static. In fact, it would have been more effective to just shout, but that’s not the point.
Just holding them made me and my best friend feel tough and important, which is what a boy craves most. People with walkie-talkies only have important stuff to say, or else they wouldn’t have been issued walkie-talkies in the first place.
Despite the gadget’s name, we didn’t do a lot of walking, because of the range thing. We’d mostly crouch in ditches or behind trees, like we were taking cover. And we’d shout urgent commands into our radios. Stuff like, “Cover me! Are you covering me? Okay! I’m going in! Okay here I go!” Or maybe “What’s your twenty? Do you copy?! Roger that! Over and out!”
We would never, under any circumstances, waste our batteries saying stupid things into our walkie-talkies. Like, “Time out! I have a pebble in my shoe!” No way.
The walkie-talkies were clunky, boxy appliances. They had telescoping antennas that were ridiculously satisfying to extend or collapse. Maybe if one hand was busy lobbing a dirt-bomb, you’d use your teeth to extract the antenna. To a seven year-old, this was the height of grit and tenacity. The only cooler feeling would’ve been the sudden ability to grow a beard.
Incredibly, walkie-talkies are now reliable and affordable. You can pick up a cheap pair for $20 and not see your kid for the rest of the day – maybe even the weekend. (Just be sure and give him spare batteries.) There are Lego branded sets, and also Hello Kitty. Do not get those. Your kid does not want to feel like a Gymboree refugee. He wants to feel like a first responder.
If you want to spend a little more, the range on some of these sets is measured in miles. Motorola and Midland make dependable handsets. They’re great for family hikes, skiing, canoeing, or anytime you’re off the grid.
Threes and eights. Now keep the shiny side up and the rubber side down. (Translation: Best wishes and have a safe trip.)
Above image of Heathkit ad from October, 1960 Flying Magazine, by Brave Heart via flickr.
Featured walkie-talkies image from 1966 Sears catalog.
Other than a trucker would probably kill/eat you for using the phrase “far richer patois” I agree with what I’m reading here. We still use them at work occasionally and it’s way more exciting than busting out an iphone.
Not a one of my three kids has a phone yet so walkie talkies are where it’s at in our family. We use them when we’re skiing all the time. I’m trying to teach them the proper talkie lingo, but they’re not going for it.
Pickle park… LOL!!
A couple of other CB terms I like:
paper hanger: a cop writing a ticket
chicken coop: a weigh station
the dime: Interstate 10
ninety-fifth street: Interstate 95
Shakeytown: Los Angeles
play dead: stand by
Uncle Charlie: the FCC (You used to need a license for a CB. And even now, it’s illegal to transmit your signal too powerfully. But all sorts of modifications (or shims) were available to boost your broadcast. The trucker with the most powerful rig (set-up) was the top dog.)
I can’t help but think about the movie Convoy whenever I hear “10-4 good buddy!”… and that gets me thinking about Smokey and the Bandit… and then I get thinking about Burt Reynolds… and then Ryan Reynolds… and then that absolutely hysterical insult Ryan Reynold’s character hurled at a female vampire in Blade 3.
Wait, what were we talking about again?
(P.S.: Walkie talkies are indeed, the shit. Some are so powerful now that they actually violate FCC regulations. Those are definitely the kind to get.)
Ahhh, you brought back fond memories of the old broken CB I used to play with in my grandparents’ dining room. Sadly, none of the lingo ever rubbed off on me even though I’m the first generation in my family (on both sides) to not drive a truck for a living. Knowing some of the women in my family, I think the men did it for self preservation.
CBs are totally making a comeback! My parents are huge CB nerds, and they’re even part of a huge club that meets every Sunday! My dad’s truck is so decked out with coils and antennas to boost their signal that it looks like ET is trying to phone home.
That’s good because when Kim Jong-un starts WW3 and we all fall off the grid, people with CBs will be the only ones able to communicate across distances. In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king…