On Topic: Why Buck Rogers, and those stores, matter

For many, the hard times that have befallen Radio Shack do not come as a shock, just as we weren't - or shouldn't have been - surprised when the roof began to crumble for Borders or J.C. Penney.

Those still-famous brands lost their way or their market or, more likely, both.

To recap: The Fort Worth, Texas, retailer of electronic parts for your home stereo and personal computer is nearly bankrupt.

On Sept. 11 it reported a quarterly loss of a massive $119.4 million. That marked 10 consecutive unprofitable quarters.

Its stock hasn't looked so healthy, either. Chapter 11 or, worse, Chapter 7 - liquidation of its assets - could be sniffing around the corner.

In response, its leaders said they are casting about for fresh financing. They're also talking about closing an undetermined number of its 4,400 stores - possibly leaving only those in more urban, high-traffic locations - bargaining for cheaper rent and reducing store hours.

But this wasn't always the way of things for the 93-year-old company. It was ahead of the curve for CBs (citizen band radios - you can Google it) in the 1970s, and debuted the TRS-80, the first mass-produced PC, in 1977, the New York Times noted a couple weeks ago.

As we began to live in a more computer-centric universe, Radio Shack carried all the gadgets consumers could want to reside there comfortably, its walls festooned with assorted wires, plugs and Buck Rogers-looking devices. (Again, look on the Internet for the Buck Rogers reference. While you're there, see also Dick Tracy's two-way wrist radio in regard to the new Apple Watch.)

Its 2014 Super Bowl TV commercial, produced at a reported cost of $4 million, hoped to celebrate that heyday, as a mob of 1980s icons, in a flurry of destructive shopping, pillaged its shelves - gymnast Mary Lou Retton, wrestler Hulk Hogan, the postal worker from 'Cheers,” Eric Estrada in his 'CHiPs” uniform and that scary guy from the 'Friday the 13th” horror movies, along with a parade of other more or less familiar faces (or hockey masks).

The retailer surely wanted its take-away message to be the commercial's tagline - 'It's time for a new Radio Shack.” But it's more likely to be that final shot, in which one of those green slime creatures from 'Ghostbusters” smashes through a shop wall only to be informed by a sales clerk that it's arrived 'too late.”

But, you know, there was a time when Radio Shack and stores like it were lifesavers.

I recall when I first bought a VCR - yeah, yeah, it wasn't that long ago - and connecting the contraption to my clunky TV got the better of both my skill set and patience. I went to my neighborhood consumer-electronics store where the clerk - cigarette pack bulging out of the pocket of his rumpled short-sleeved dress shirt - fished out a pen and the back of envelope from behind the cash register and drew a diagram.

'Here,” he said, sketching in arrows, tiny circles and squares, 'buy a couple of things that look like this, see, then hook this to this screw back here, then run this cord over to here …

.”

I took home the envelope, along with a bag of newly purchased wires, hooks and other stuff, and - following the clerk's diagram - managed to get that VCR in working order. It was like magic.

Come forward to about two years ago, when our most recent television set died, with a loud thunk. It wasn't until we got our new set home that I realized it was not going to communicate with our DVR without assistance.

So, as if traveling back in time, I drove to the nearest electronics store. There, the clerk - a young woman, no cigarette pack in sight but with a fetching star-shaped tattoo visible on her neck, as I recall - took out a pen and, on the back of an order form, neatly drew out how I should proceed. As if she'd been doing it for decades.

'Get a couple of these things,” he instructed, 'then plug this red cord into the round thing that looks like this …

.”

I followed her directions and, presto chango, everything worked, and on the first attempt.

And that's what we'll miss when and if such places vanish. Not the stuff so much, because if you know what you need, you can get it online.

We'll miss that rumpled shirt and/or tattooed guidance. When it comes to evolving technology, many of us often need to depend on the kindness of strangers.

' Michael Chevy Castranova is Sunday editor of The Gazette.