Early 1960s. My father was a renowned architect. And audiophile. A real one.
A local businessman, who owned several radio and a TV station, asked my father to design his home. Turns out he was also an audiophile, and they became listening pals.
One day he asked my father: “would you like to SEE the music?”
“You mean…See the music???” My father retorted, full of disbelief. “Well, of course!”
Next day, an enormous and heavy Tektronix 565, with the cart included, arrived home. A radio engineer set it up and connected to the amplifier, put a record, and Voilà! Squiggly green lines appeared on the screen, dancing with the music.
To me, it was a magical moment. The myriad buttons and switches, with its mysterious sounding labels, were beyond comprehension.
There and then I decided to become an electronics engineer. I must have been 8 or 10 years old.
A local businessman, who owned several radio and a TV station, asked my father to design his home. Turns out he was also an audiophile, and they became listening pals.
One day he asked my father: “would you like to SEE the music?”
“You mean…See the music???” My father retorted, full of disbelief. “Well, of course!”
Next day, an enormous and heavy Tektronix 565, with the cart included, arrived home. A radio engineer set it up and connected to the amplifier, put a record, and Voilà! Squiggly green lines appeared on the screen, dancing with the music.
To me, it was a magical moment. The myriad buttons and switches, with its mysterious sounding labels, were beyond comprehension.
There and then I decided to become an electronics engineer. I must have been 8 or 10 years old.









