Radio

The amount of information that we can convince a radio signal to carry ... and that

we know how to recover from it at the receiving end ... is a certain percentage of

the frequency of the carrier signal. So you see immediately that a higher frequency

carrier can carry more information than a lower frequency one.

A simple everyday example: That's why the music on an FM radio station ... with a

carrier frequency between 88 and 108 MHz ... is higher-fi than the music on an AM

station ... with a carrier frequency between 0.55 and 1.7 MHz.

Microwave radios designed to carry streaming data use carrier frequencies (in

the US) around 6, 11, 18, 23, 38, or 80 thousand MHz , and can carry data at

truly impressive rates that are now approaching a gigabit per second.

2. If radio turned on, turn it off.

3. Press AS button in, and hold it in while turning radio on.

4. Wait approx 10 seconds (do not release AS button).

5. Radio should beep, and display should now read 10 - - - - (assuming no tries have been made in the past with the wrong code)

6. use pre-set button "1" to scroll the first digit in the display to the number you want (it goes 0,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 then back to 0)

7. Use pre-set "2" for second digit, etc.

8. Once display reads 10 followed by the four digit security code press and hold AS button for about 10 seconds, until the radio beeps.

9. If correct code entered display will now read "code" briefly, followed by"memory-U" briefly, then radio will reprogram it self.

10. If radio goes back to "safe" the code number is incorrect, or you mis-keyed it.

Note: entering the code incorrectly 10 times will render the radio useless.

After the first 3 tries you need to leave the radio on and the ignition on for increasingly long periods of time before it will let you try again. 7 safe need you to wait at least 30 mins, and more like 1 hour.

We're going to assume that you're referring to the "Hubble Space Telescope".

For the answer, you have to go back all the way to 1990, and the last moments before

the Space Shuttle Discovery was launched carrying the Hubble Telescope in its cargo bay.

It was a great day. After almost 20 years in planning, design, and construction, the mighty

scope was ready for orbit, to observe and photograph cosmic phenomena undreamed

of by the millenia of philosophers and scientists whose brilliance had given us virtually

everything we knew about the universe until then. At last, the Hubble was ready to

shuffle off this gaseous coil, to observe and photograph the wonders of this Universe

with an eye unsullied by atmosphere, and a clarity seen by none but their Maker as He

wrote the first paragraphs of Genesis.

The countdown was in its final stages. The Shuttle's crew were belted into their

restraints, the chatter on the Capcom rising in pitch and excitement, the vast

clouds of condensate wafting from the huge external fuel tank in the pre-dawn

twilight as only clouds of condensate can waft, the unsuspecting shorebirds

beginning to stir on their roosts throughout the wetlands of the Cape, rubbing

the sleep out of their beaks unaware of the fire and thunder scheduled to terrify

them in only moments. The countdown, seemingly irresistible and proceeding now

by its own independent will, pulsing toward the single digits, and then . . . . .

A human figure, dwarfed by the towering rocket ship and shadowed in the darkness

on the ground, running, arms waving, screaming, "HOLD THE COUNTDOWN ! STOP

THE LAUNCH ! STOP THE LAUNCH !".

One more millisecond would surely have been too late, but it worked. For whatever

reason, the process was suspended. At the Launch Control consoles, a hundred

red plungers were mashed by an equal number of sweaty palms, a hundred circuits

broke, whereupon condensate ceased its wafting, and a thousand spectator voices

descended as one from among the bulrushes with a unison "AWWWWWWWWWW ...".

The Pad Police quickly had the shadowy figure in custody and whisked him away to

an underground locker room, where he was restrained until officials could be brought in

to interrogate him. He was an engineer, one, in fact, who had worked on the Hubble

project for almost 13 years. Although the fact of his identity as an engineer was quite

enough, not to excuse but to completely explain his apparent total insanity, and more,

he protested that he had an urgent message for them, information pertinent to the launch,

and the more they listened, the more convinced they became that they must listen to this man.

He had been at home this night, sleeping fitfully, when suddenly he sat bolt upright in

his bed as if shocked at every synapse by simultaneous lightning bolts, then leaping

like a madman out of his bed, through his pants and into his shoes, he sprinted to

his car and made straight for the highway toward the Florida coast and the launch

complex, scarce stopping to breathe for the next four hours, until he reached the

Cape with not a moment to spare.

Of all the thousands who had worked overtime, dedicating all that they had to give,

for the success of the Hubble project, this man was the only one to finally realize ...

almost too late ... that they rushed headlong toward a climax which, no matter how

successful, might avail them totally naught. Though the Hubble instrument was poised

to collect images heretofore unseen by any eye, they would stay that way, unless

some means were provided for some eyes to see them ... a provision which, in their

dedication and haste, these absent minded minions had overlooked. There was no

subsystem aboard the payload that was designed to transport the images from the

telescope's orbit to the places where the scientists were. Indeed, there was not even

a mechanism capable of delivering the exposed film to the drugstore.

But now, to avoid allowing the story to grow any longer than it must, we only add

that the collected brain-power available to the project was such that a solution was

proposed and implemented almost immediately. The ham operaters at the launch

complex had a design in moments, the machinists built the mounts only a few moments

later, and the electronics specialists had only to wait until the Coca Beach Radio Shack

opened a few hours later, before they too had their part of the solution implemented.

A radio link was constructed and installed in an unused corner aboard the Hubble,

to beam the stream ... of data, that is ... from the spacecraft to the earthbound

dishes, where it could be read to reconstruct the photos.

The radio antenna you see attached to the side of the Hubble Space Telescope is

the gate through which pictures have poured for over 20 years now, sending for our

wondrous eyes such images as man never before beheld. And as an incidental bonus,

the same team realized, soon after launch, that the same radio link would make it

possible for them to command and control the telescope, directing it to do their bidding,

look where they wanted it to look, go where they wanted it to go, doing the work

that they themselves would do if only they could be there. This lucky accident has

turned out to be the main reason why the Hubble has been so useful, and has

become such a scientific and technical legend in its own time.

It sounds like you have the typical Ford radio problem. You're lucky if the behavior isn't completely random.

This guy claims to have the solution for $20.

http://www.shareamemory.com/radio/

It requires some soldering, so it's not for the weak at heart. I've yet to try it.