This page is not a profile.
It’s the story of one small incident that accidentally explains why this site exists at all — and what kind of person is behind it.
—
How This Site Was Born
Right now, I’m preparing to launch a transistor archive site in English.
I have a mountain of transistors I’ve collected over 30 years — parts that have outlived their commercial purpose and, for most people, have no use anymore.
For 99.999% of people, they are just junk.
But for the remaining 0.001%, they are a treasure worth reaching for.
My wife understands her “otaku” husband deeply, but she surpasses me in practicality and rational thinking. Several times a month, she tells me:
> “You should sell them while there are still people who want them.”
She’s absolutely right.
If I keep hoarding these parts, my fellow enthusiasts will age along with me — and then we’ll all become stars in the sky together.
But for me, this “pile of junk” is an irreplaceable source of joy for my later years.
To gently bridge the small gap between my wife and me, I decided to launch a site.
Or more accurately:
– My wife bought the domain.
– My wife signed the hosting contract.
– My wife installed WordPress.
– My wife even chose the site theme.
– My wife came up with the domain name and the site name.
I’m fortunate enough to have at least a normal amount of human decency and sense of responsibility.
If someone loves me that much and sets up everything for me, the least I can do is try to respond.
In short, this is how this site was born.
Standing Between Two Eras
I belong to a generation that experienced both:
– The analog golden age
– And the rise of digital technology
roughly in equal proportions.
That also means one thing:
Most of the stories I can tell are “old.”
This site is destined to focus on topics from:
– The late 1950s, before I was even born
– Through the analog decline of the 1990s
– Into the “endgame” around 2010
Probably 90% of that 0.001% of readers will enjoy sinking into nostalgia.
On the other hand, for Gen Z — the people who will actually build our future — these topics have virtually zero direct connection to daily life.
No matter how niche a topic is, I don’t have the confidence to keep working on something that feels like pure self-punishment, with no sustainability or growth at all. To borrow a fashionable word: it wouldn’t be “SDGs-compliant.”
So here I am, typing with slightly unreliable eyes, using only two or three fingers.
I grumble internally that “Windows 95 was one thing, but XP and 7 were so much nicer to use,” while I ask questions to AI.
Then Claude and GPT team up and flatter me:
> “Your site will resonate with Gen Z too!”
An analog human cheered on by the embodiment of digital technology —
it’s a very 21st-century scene.
The 26-Year-Old Who Had Never Seen a Fluorescent Lamp
Not long ago, this happened at work.
A 26-year-old engineer came to me and said a UV inspection light had stopped working. He’s an eager, promising young ace. He showed up with his supervisor, carrying the light.
It turned out to be a fluorescent lamp type, so I decided to repair it on the spot.
At a glance, it didn’t look expensive. The housing had the kind of familiar shape I’d seen for decades.
My first impression was: “Simple inside. Something like a toy — well, that’s rude to the manufacturer, but you get the idea.”
I pulled the fluorescent tube out of the fixture.
With 100 V AC still applied, I touched the multimeter probes to the metal contacts to see if the tube was actually getting voltage.
Both of them instinctively stepped back.
I could practically hear their inner voices:
> “What is this guy doing?”
> “Is this really safe?”
I pretended not to notice and calmly continued the diagnosis.
Their nervousness slowly turned into a kind of expectation: “Maybe he really can fix this.”
I’d be lying if I said that didn’t feel a little satisfying.
“Yeah, it’s just a bad switch contact.
Take it to the circuit design section — they should have a suitable replacement part.
You can fix it quickly. The tube is fine.
While you’re at it, you might want to buy a spare lamp.”
Then he asked:
> “Wait, what do you mean ‘the tube is fine’?”
“Sorry?”
“You mean… the lamp itself can ‘go bad’?”
He had never really thought about fluorescent lamps having a lifespan.
So I explained:
“When a fluorescent lamp is nearing the end of its life, the ends of the tube turn black.
It starts flickering in orange or purple.
Eventually it stops lighting entirely.
Even before that, it gradually gets dimmer as you keep using it.
If you think back, when you were a kid, there must have been some in your house or at school, right?”
None of this rang a bell for him.
I instinctively looked over at his supervisor (a woman in her 40s — and I will politely avoid guessing further).
She nodded along and joined in:
> “Really? You’ve never seen fluorescent tubes?”
“You see? It’s not just me.”
And then it clicked.
Our workplace has been fully converted to LED lighting.
It’s entirely possible that he grew up in a home that had already made the same transition.
In other words, he may have grown up in a world without fluorescent lamps.
Older people (not that I officially accept that label for myself yet) have an unfortunate habit:
we tend to assume that “what we experienced” is still “recent history.”
In that moment, I realized with a rather complex mix of feelings that I had reached the age where I could actually see that bias in myself.
This is the reality I’m facing.
Wait — the year 2000…
Thinking calmly, that’s already a quarter of a century ago.
Yes, it definitely qualifies as “the old days.”
And that is why I’m writing this down now.
If You’d Like to Read More
If you’d like to read more about what’s behind this site and the tools I built:
Reference Links
- Why This Archive Exists — Why this archive is necessary
Take your time with them when you’re in the mood to read slowly.