Here’s a neat little electronic find from this past weekend. I normally don’t go in for old alarm clocks when I’m out thrifting, because really, they’re a dime-a-dozen, and while some may be interesting to look at, rarely do they have that extra ‘oomph’ to push them into the “ah gotsta buy dis” category for me.
Our subject today, however, is a big time exception to all that. That’s why we’re here right now, after all! Plus, I can find very little info on it out there in internet-land, and thus it’s my duty to inform, educate, and annoy entertain on the subject.
Behold: it’s the Spartus AVT Audio Visual Time alarm clock, model number 1410, from, near as I can tell, 1982 (there’s no date listed, but what info I’ve found online tells me it originally came out in ’82). Spartus made more than a few alarm clocks back in the day, often with something cool to make them stand out, either feature-wise or aesthetic-wise, and this piece here ably hits both of those marks.
Indeed, I was enamored by the AVT as soon as my eyes fell upon it, and despite a failed attempt at putting it back and going on without it, I just couldn’t resist – despite the relatively-hefty $6 price tag. (A 35% off coupon helped ease that blow, however.)
That cool brushed metal (aluminum?) face plate, the woodgrain sides, it’s almost like a meeting of 1970s and 1980s sensibilities, even though it’s probably not and I’m a dolt for even mentioning it. It looks cool, okay?
And since red is my favorite color, the red LED display is enormously appealing to yours truly. Don’t let the picture above fool you; my phone’s flash makes it look dimmer than it is (it was either a pic with flash and sharp focus, or none and, uh, not), but the red LED is pretty bright. It’s actually so bright that when it’s turned up all the way, there’s an audible buzzing! (Hope that’s not a bad sign of anything!)
So that’s all well and good, but there was a more substantial factor in the AVT coming home with me, and the clue is in the name: the “Visual” and “Time” portions are self-explanatory, but it’s the “Audio” bit that figuratively raised my eyebrows. That’s right, this thing talks! I always like it when a vintage piece of technology tries to go the extra mile and stand out with a quirky gimmick, and if the AVT doesn’t qualify, what does?
And it doesn’t just tell you the time, either! It can also audibly inform you of the date, what time your alarm is set for, and maybe some other things I ain’t even figured out yet! The volume is pretty crisp and clear, especially considering this was early-1980s technology. The voice can be considered, I guess, Speak & Spell-esque; it’s not overtly robotic, but clearly ‘synthetic,’ if that makes any sense at all. THE FUTURE IS NOW!
Underneath a smoked-plastic cover resides all of your clock-settin’ options – literally at your fingertips! I had to really press to get the hour/minutes to register, but since this is over 30 years old and (I presume) well-used, I’m not complaining. The volume toggle is self-explanatory, and the dimmer is handy; there’s only the two settings, but even on the lower one, it’s nice and easily-discernible.
On the bottom of the unit is a handy instructional sticker, though as per my usual MO, I didn’t really bother paying attention to it when it came time for testing. Typical.
Also, notice the battery compartment here. (If you scroll back to the previous picture, you’ll also see the “battery test” button on the panel.) The AVT can use a single 9 volt battery for backup purposes should the electricity cut out. It’s not mandatory to have one, but probably a good idea if you were to keep this in use all the time. There was actually a battery still in this thing when I found it, though perhaps amazingly, it had not leaked or corroded in the slightest. Maybe the original owner continued using this clock until only recently?
I didn’t find much about the AVT online. Google gave me a couple of old newspaper advertisement scans, but I couldn’t really see them unless I registered to the respective sites, which I wasn’t prepared to do. Nothing turned up on eBay either; oh sure, tons and tons of vintage Spartus alarm clocks, many of them very cool, but I scrolled through ’em all and there wasn’t a single listing for the AVT – current or completed!
I only found two real pieces of online information regarding the unit: this page regarding the original trademark and its filing date and all that. But more importantly, I found this page on the official Farm Magazine website, which has actually preserved their original 1982 entry for the AVT! Cool! This is wildly important, not only because of a better description of the features present, but also because it presents the original suggested retail price of $37.25.
Usually I’d make an exaggerated inflation joke here, but I actually looked it up: in today’s dollars, this thing would be over 90 bucks! Whoa! So would an alarm clock that cost $37.25 back then be considered “high end?” Maybe the price was too prohibitive and that’s why I can’t find any for sale online right now?
Here’s a final “straight ahead” shot of the clock. My flash gave a cool reflective effect off the metal face plate, though it also made the two ‘main’ buttons hard to discern. On the left is your typical snooze button that also doubles as your calendar; press it and it tells you the month and day. On the right, you’ve got the “time” button..
My only disappointment, and this is really pretty mild, is that they weren’t somehow able to fit an AM/FM radio into this unit. BUT, that might have ruined the compact, elegant, relatively-simple design the AVT displays, so it’s actually not a big deal.
As I said at the start of this article, I’m not much of an alarm clock collector. But you know what? The Spartus AVT certainly threatens to make me one! Forget the lack of radio; I love everything about this one. The design, the color scheme, the fact it talks to me, all of it.
Suddenly, $6 doesn’t seem like that high of a price tag anymore…
winnins!
when it comes to used VHS buying; usually, it’s those square yellow stickers from the mid-90s or circular red ones of later years that I find affixed to my obsolete video formats.
set (two movies per disc, giving them a nice “double feature” feel), all housed in a standard-size DVD case with four hubs inside. Rest assured, I prefer this packaging; it’s a sleek, compact design that doesn’t take any extra space on the figurative DVD shelf, but with enough weight to it to really feel like a product, if that makes any sense. I dig it, is what I’m saying.
hey, maybe there was more that could be accessed there. As it stands here though, you’ve got only standard play-stop-eject-rewind-forward-record-pause options at your fingertips. I can’t even access the much-ballyhooed VCR Plus+ option. Near as I can tell, anyway.
Speaking of recording, you didn’t have to record in S-VHS; you could use this as a regular ol’ VHS VCR, if you so desired. This is accessed through the little S-VHS button pictured here. The light sez it’s on. Since S-VHS required specific S-VHS tapes, and since regular VHS tapes were far more common, if you wanted to pick up a cheap blank tape at the grocery store, you’d just push the S-VHS button “off,” and then you were good to go! I don’t know if the recording quality for normal VHS would have been any better than usual, but 4-Head Hi-Fi is always a good thing anyway.
housed in good ol’ metal, and with the black color-scheme, it’s a pretty slick-lookin’ beast. There’s some rounding on the front corners, but it’s mostly slim and boxy, though ridges (?) along the bottom almost give it a foot-stand-like appearance. I don’t know how to describe this, bu I tried to show you in the pic here.
them, and came up with the 2003 CBS broadcast of Bruce Springsteen’s Barcelona concert. I’ve owned the entire show on DVD for years, but this was recorded in S-VHS SP, so hey, gotta check it out!
Here’s the back of the second tag. Since I was obviously not at this event personally, I’m not sure how it was set up, but there was evidently a reception of sorts. (Please, anyone with further info or was even there, chime in with a comment!) As you can see, there’s the standard disclaimer on the back, and while it was totally necessary as a legal precaution, I can’t help but find it a little funny; just what was going to happen at this thing?! Would there be an reenactment of the Trapper John boxing episode? Or maybe Linville officiated a boxing match not unlike the fight between Klinger and Zale in a later episode? Would there be thefts akin to “I Hate a Mystery” present? Impromptu meatball surgery sessions? The mind reels at the possibilities! (I of course kid here.)
our subject today.
Pictured on the back is what I’m assuming is an illustration of the WJW station of the time. I mean, what else could it be? There’s nothing about it that particularly screams “television station!” to me, except for what appears to be the little antenna on the very top. But then, I’m no expert on the building(s) that housed the station in years past. Or present, for that matter.
popular to use for advertising purposes or as commemorative pieces like what we’re seeing right now.
“Say, that cover looks kinda sorta familiar!”
came; that is, hey, the internet wasn’t around yet! Texas Terror was not made in 1940; it’s absolutely from 1935. Doesn’t sound like that big a deal, I know, but there’s a world of difference between the John Wayne of 1935 and the John Wayne of 1940. (In the same vein, my VV copy of Black Dragons lists the release date as 1949, when in actuality it’s definitively a poverty row product of 1942.)
there’s not much of a comparison between the two entities at all.) Monogram was, for those not in “the know,” a poverty row purveyor of cheap theatrical entertainment, in pretty much any genre you could think of. Westerns were big business at the time, so needless to say, their output in that field was not inconsiderable.
Dan is killed by one of the hoodlums; upon discovery, Higgins thinks he plugged him (right screenshot), and subsequently resigns as sheriff and goes to live in the wilderness.
Magnum, P.I.) grows a beard during his exile period, and this is the only film I can think of where Wayne’s character features full facial fiber (alliteration). Sure, he had a mustache (and quasi-soul patch) in The Shootist, but this is the only instance I can think of where he had a legit beard. (I’m not saying it is the only instance, I don’t claim to have seen every single John Wayne movie ever, but this is certainly the only instance that comes to mind).
welcome, though it’s kind of a wash since the source material is so battered. I’m not saying this is the worst Texas Terror has ever looked, but this particular print certainly saw better days prior to VHS release. Besides the not-inconsiderable amount of dust, dirt and scratches, accumulated via untold trips through the projector and who knows how many generations removed, the bigger issue is that this version is pretty blasted. No joke, some of the images are far, far too bright. Look at the screenshots to the right here; the upper-image features a positively ghostly John Wayne, whose face seems to be a part of the wall behind him. And the lower-image? You’d be forgiven for not immediately realizing our heroine is even in the scene!
THE NORTHEAST OHIO VIDEO HUNTER 