This morning we built an AM radio. Not from scratch exactly, and I still can’t tell you how the amplifier or the resistors work, but we finished it and Charlie switched it on, leaned in close to listen.  It had an on-off switch, a volume slide and a wheel tuner that works a short segment of airway band so as to receive two stations.  We passed over KSCO talk radio – broadcasting from the three towers high overhead on nearby Moran lake – and opted for a scratchy memories show, perfect somehow for a tinny snap circuit AM radio speaker with old songstresses swooning and old jiversters snapping swinging tunes.  Charlie experimented to see if the radio got better reception outside than inside, and it did, so we pulled patio chairs around the slide out back, leaned back and stacked our legs matchsticklike on each other using the slide as an ottoman.  Ben slid down the slide till his bare feet met mine bottom to bottom and laid there too, the sun shining on us in our spring green outdoor living room, quiet, listening, to the crackly then clear “At Last.”