SB-20x or SB-22x bad meters

[Multi-Volti Devices]

Anyone willing to donate some bad meters to science? I would like to
pursue experiments with rewinding or repair, perhaps coming up with
either a technique, procedure or service to share. No telling where it
might go. I understand the manufacturer still exists and will do minimum
runs of 6 units. Perhaps movements are standard items for them, for
folks with cosmetically OK meters.

Or, maybe you want to trade your bad meters for something, so you feel
compensated. Or how about selling a bad meter? (Actually, another Heath
story coming here...)

 I used to live near Philadelphia. I was a student at PSU, and was
visiting a friend in the RARE (on HF) Huntingdon County PA (which was
fun for PA QSO party to provide a rare county). We went to a hamfest in
the Poconos, at a horse race track. The flies were horrendous!

I saw an SB-220 plate meter for a few bux, in the box, beautiful
condition. My friend had an SB-220 (we operated contests together), so I
bought it for him. We met up later and I showed him the great find.

Drove home, and got ready for another hamfest in Virginia! I had some
test equipment (non-Heath) pulled from a barn, and I mean manure and
guano were on this stuff.

We're seen the questions on how to clean nicotine sludge. Well, I put
these VTVM's on some 2x4's on sawhorses, and started spraying them with
Formula 409 cleaner. Wait a while and hose em down with the garden hose
pressure nozzle, to my friend's horror.  (they were HP's was my
rationalization, and I had worked for a place that built microwave
telemetry gear, and they hosed their stuff down. Maybe the circumstances
were different, but that didn't matter to a krazy kollege kid.) How do
you expect to get them dry before tomorrow morning he asked? With a sly
grin, I said, 160 F in the oven for, uh, a couple hours. (His wife was
gone for the weekend).

Hey, I said it would be a Heath story....be patient. Or, put down that
racing form and pay attention, boy, as Louis Jordan would say.

Just don't tell my wife, he says.

I stopped the 409/H2O cycles when the bakelite meters started sliming
brown...

The chasses were beautiful, and I left the power cords  hanging out the
top six inches of the oven door. They stunk for just a little bit, then
either we got used to it, or the smell went away with the humidity.

My friend was pretty good natured so far.

We loaded up the pickup truck, got up about 5 AM and headed for VA.
Incidentally, this was the last time he drove the pickup with a camper
top...had a really harrowing close call pulling in front of someone he
couldn't see, and decided it was too scary to drive with it.

We get to Virginia after getting on that dang 495 (?) stretch that runs
to Dulles Int'l Airport with on ramps only, no off ramps. 14 miles to
the airport, and 14 miles back to get back to where we were when we got
on.....grrr...

We put out the gear, and the sun starts rising in the sky. About an hour
later, the meters on the HP's start to fog up....a helpful ham comes by
and says, "Musta loaded the truck up last night and got some
condensation, huh?" Sounded good to us, so that was the story for anyone
who asked.

I ended up keeping one, and yes, it worked fine.

So, my friend watches the table, and I go off in search of stuff I can't
live without. I see the nice guy who sold me the SB-220 meter, and say
hi to him. He ignores me and walks to the other end of the table. Maybe
he didn't see me, I think, and say to him, "Hi, I bought an SB-220 meter
from you yesterday in the Poconos." His eyes get big and he bolts like a
rat to the other end of his table. I figure there's just something wrong
with him, and eventually tell my friend about the incident. He jokes,
haha the meter's probably bad. (Foreshadowing, they call this in the
movies).

We get home, and haunted by my friends's Nostradamus-like prediction. I
get the meter out and check it with an ohmmeter... +   +
                                                    0
                                                _____

I pull the case off, and it looks like somebody towed their car with a
slinky and shoved the slinky back into the ashtray, or maybe a brillo
pad with no soap.

My friend and I look at each other, and my friend feels the brass
terminals on the back, and says, if we ever run into that guy again, I
think these will fit his nostrils. Never did see the guy again, though.

Thanks for putting up with it. It would have been alot worse on CW.


Murray

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