Ken C. Pohlmann

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was consulting for a car company and I needed to A/B two tweeters. I dashed over to the nearest RadioShack and picked up a speaker-switching box. Crazy to think about it now – a brick-and-mortar store selling something like that. Of course, RadioShack is just a distant memory now. Or is it? Is RadioShack making a comeback?

I guarantee that you will react to this news item in one of two ways:
First Way: “Oh, no! I wish they'd keep doing that!”
Second Way: “Wait. What? They're still doing that?”

A few months ago, I described how a certain airline has devised a fiendish way to torment its passengers. That is, a type of torment beyond the usual run-of-the-mill torture of flying on any airplane. In a letter to the editor, alert reader Douglas Mandel commiserated with me but pointed out that I was overlooking another kind of torture that is much, much worse.

So, I have this recurring nightmare where the spaceship's crew pushes me out of the airlock and, screaming, I am inexorably pulled into a black hole where I am transported into a new dimension where space and time cease to exist.