I can remember my dad climbing up in the roof to adjust the TV antenna. We had a procedure where he would point in in what he thought was right direction, I would run into the house and see what it looked like on our black and white TV. Then I run back out and yell to him better or worse. This would go on a few times. Then it was good until a good wind storm would redirect the antenna. [end of story]
I like your antenna story.
I remember a magazine cartoon where the kids were in the living room and outside their father had slipped off the roof, holding onto the antenna and hanging by the tangled antenna wire upside down near the upstairs windows.
“That’s it! That’s it, Dad. Hold it right there.”