Uploaded April 2024 | Updated September 2026, 8 hours ago
Today we're digging into the video vault for vintage video of the rare Regency TR-22.
Oh, you don't see these every day. It's a lunchbox style portable transistor radio from Regency, maker of the very first transistor radio, the Regency TR-1. I think this style of radio is called a lunchbox because of its shape and the fact that it has a handle, not because it has a peanut butter sandwich in it. Because.. it doesn't. The radio's case here is made out of leatherette-- this is the classic NON-leather substance made to look like leather..for which the term "leatherette" was originally coined, I believe. These days we refer to vinyl as leatherette but I think this stuff is what the word originally meant. It is some kind of composition board. "Composition" being one of those vague terms where.. there's no telling WHAT'S in it,...like pot metal, or that stuff in the school cafeteria they called "goulash." It's a nice grille cloth here in a nubby red and gold with some metallic thread running through it. If I had a suit made out of this material, well, it would change my life.
And here's the tuning dial--and underneath that an input jack labeled "Phono." We didn't expect that. So, you could play your records through this radio.
And on this side, the volume control. Lunchbox portables, whether transistor or tube, often had this sort of layout, with the volume and tuning knobs on the sides as you see with these examples from Capehart.. and Zenith..and Admiral..and Arvin.. and Silvertone.
This leatherette is in remarkable condition, though another word to describe it would be.. brittle. Dry, stiff, and brittle. OK, that's three words. If I were to open the back fully, it would split at the bottom edge, probably with an unpleasant crack. So I'll try to open it enough to get some kind of look inside and show what I can, but I'm going to stop when I feel significant resistance, as cowardly as that sounds... Regency TR-22... "Made in USA" is stamped on the bottom of the back. This top hinge, I think you could call it a hinge, or a self-hinge. Anyway, it's really nothing more than a fold and it's no younger than the edge on the bottom so I'm taking it slow and trying to be careful.
"All transistor radio." "Battery Types." "Factory Service." Well, there's not much to see in here without taking the whole thing apart and that process would almost certainly break the leatherette case. There are battery installation instructions, in the form of a diagram. And a cardboard roll that holds those batteries. It's not easy to hold the radio open, just this far, and also reach in for that tube. We see behind the tube is the radio's model number and serial number sticker. And the battery instructions appear again on the cardboard tube. So, okay, that makes this cardboard roll a genuine official battery tube, the real deal, and not just something from the bathroom there at Regency.
Well, I managed to get it back together and snapped shut without doing any damage.
This Regency ad from probably 1958 shows three radios and a phonograph, what we used to call a "record player." I don't think this is what Regency had in mind for plugging into that "phono" jack on the side of the radio we just looked at. Why would you plug in a phonograph that already has its own amplifier and, quote "4 inch speaker for big volume." end quote. I might guess the radio could serve as a second channel for playing stereo records but no, 1958 was a little early for that and the phonograph here undoubedtly has a monaural cartridge in it, not a stereo one.
So the radio's phono jack was likely for use with a phonograph that had no amplifier--what we used to call a "turntable." Yes, I know, they all have turntables. But in those days, "turntable" meant "unamplified." An amplified turntable was not a turntable, but a phonograph, or a record player. At the end of what was called the "tone arm" was the cartridge, which could be called a "pickup," if you wanted, but the thing the cartridge held--the pointy thing that tracked the grooves in the record--was under no circumstances to be referred to as a "needle." It was a "stylus." It's THIS KIND OF TALK that sends my girlfriend out of the room when I'm working on videos, and explains why I have exactly zero female viewers on this channel.
Today we're digging into the video vault for vintage video of the rare Regency TR-22.
Oh, you don't see these every day. It's a lunchbox style portable transistor radio from Regency, maker of the very first transistor radio, the Regency TR-1. I think this style of radio is called a lunchbox because of its shape and the fact that it has a handle, not because it has a peanut butter sandwich in it. Because.. it doesn't. The radio's case here is made out of leatherette-- this is the classic NON-leather substance made to look like leather..for which the term "leatherette" was originally coined, I believe. These days we refer to vinyl as leatherette but I think this stuff is what the word originally meant. It is some kind of composition board. "Composition" being one of those vague terms where.. there's no telling WHAT'S in it,...like pot metal, or that stuff in the school cafeteria they called "goulash." It's a nice grille cloth here in a nubby red and gold with some metallic thread running through it. If I had a suit made out of this material, well, it would change my life.
And here's the tuning dial--and underneath that an input jack labeled "Phono." We didn't expect that. So, you could play your records through this radio.
And on this side, the volume control. Lunchbox portables, whether transistor or tube, often had this sort of layout, with the volume and tuning knobs on the sides as you see with these examples from Capehart.. and Zenith..and Admiral..and Arvin.. and Silvertone.
This leatherette is in remarkable condition, though another word to describe it would be.. brittle. Dry, stiff, and brittle. OK, that's three words. If I were to open the back fully, it would split at the bottom edge, probably with an unpleasant crack. So I'll try to open it enough to get some kind of look inside and show what I can, but I'm going to stop when I feel significant resistance, as cowardly as that sounds... Regency TR-22... "Made in USA" is stamped on the bottom of the back. This top hinge, I think you could call it a hinge, or a self-hinge. Anyway, it's really nothing more than a fold and it's no younger than the edge on the bottom so I'm taking it slow and trying to be careful.
"All transistor radio." "Battery Types." "Factory Service." Well, there's not much to see in here without taking the whole thing apart and that process would almost certainly break the leatherette case. There are battery installation instructions, in the form of a diagram. And a cardboard roll that holds those batteries. It's not easy to hold the radio open, just this far, and also reach in for that tube. We see behind the tube is the radio's model number and serial number sticker. And the battery instructions appear again on the cardboard tube. So, okay, that makes this cardboard roll a genuine official battery tube, the real deal, and not just something from the bathroom there at Regency.
Well, I managed to get it back together and snapped shut without doing any damage.
This Regency ad from probably 1958 shows three radios and a phonograph, what we used to call a "record player." I don't think this is what Regency had in mind for plugging into that "phono" jack on the side of the radio we just looked at. Why would you plug in a phonograph that already has its own amplifier and, quote "4 inch speaker for big volume." end quote. I might guess the radio could serve as a second channel for playing stereo records but no, 1958 was a little early for that and the phonograph here undoubedtly has a monaural cartridge in it, not a stereo one.
So the radio's phono jack was likely for use with a phonograph that had no amplifier--what we used to call a "turntable." Yes, I know, they all have turntables. But in those days, "turntable" meant "unamplified." An amplified turntable was not a turntable, but a phonograph, or a record player. At the end of what was called the "tone arm" was the cartridge, which could be called a "pickup," if you wanted, but the thing the cartridge held--the pointy thing that tracked the grooves in the record--was under no circumstances to be referred to as a "needle." It was a "stylus." It's THIS KIND OF TALK that sends my girlfriend out of the room when I'm working on videos, and explains why I have exactly zero female viewers on this channel.
