Every successful consumer product needs a good name, a great name if possible. Walkman... iPhone. And then there's... Omscolite.
Ah yes, well, these people have basically left no trace of themselves so it's hard to say what reason they may have had for putting such a name on a radio. Is there a Mr. Omsco behind all this? And did they make bigger radios that are Omscos... and smaller ones, like this, that are Omsco-LITEs? Well, we can answer that question right now. Here's a radio that is a little bigger and it's an Omsco, an Omsco Power pack. But... here's another one, bigger still, and it's an Omscolite. So I guess my theory is pretty flimsy. Let's see if there are any clues inside this one as to who these people are. No, the only thing I can see in here is that it calls for an Eveready battery, the clip for which is broken off. On the tuning capacitor it says this: ((FUJ V.C. CO., LTD))... Not Fuji variable capacitor company limited. Fuj. Well, that's pretty funny because it really is supposed to be Fuji. Here's an ad of theirs with the same Mount Fuji logo that appears on the tuning capacitor in this radio. So, OK, a typo. On your product? I mean, you misspelled your own name on your product? Well, that is pretty funny but before we get all judgy and feeling superior about it, let's have a look at this Chevrolet ad from 1974, selling the bicentennial line of Chevys in red, white, and blue colors to celebrate America’s 200th birthday. Read that headline. This ad ran in several national magazines before someone noticed that the headline said "A limited edition of Chevrolets in Amerca's favorite colors." Amerca. Ooo. Now THERE'S a typo.
Let's look over this Omsco radio and see if it was made by the same people. It says on the front of this one, "All Transistor, 2-2-3," whatever that means. The dull brown trim pieces would have been bright gold when this radio was new. A coat of lacquer would have made them stay bright gold, as we see on many other radios like this, but I don't think the Omsco people thought it necessary. Well, it obviously was necessary. The volume knob is on the back on this one. That's something you don't often see... Inside there's... not much! I see 2 transistors, branded NEC, and 2 diodes, but in the way of labels--or information--nothing. The Omsco mystique lives on.
But let's get back to the Omscolite with the giant "7" on the grille. There's an older video on this channel about the transistor wars--those claims for ever-greater numbers of transistors that peaked at around 15 or 16 in a pocket-size radio. This is an early entrant into that contest with 7 in a radio of quite small size. In those days, they were still trying to shoehorn the parts into these little things in various ways and you can see on the side here the unusual earphone jack nut, normally a donut shape, which was made with flat sides--or I like to think shaved down... to fit--along with the earphone jack itself inside the radio. And before we get inside the radio, have a good look at this. Made in U.S.A. Well... that's unexpected. A radio like this, as small as it is, and that looks in every respect like a Japanese radio, is marked Made in U.S.A. Well, I guess we'd better get inside and investigate. Inside the back... there is... nothing. Nothing to learn there. Now, this chassis. Ah, well, what looks American in here? Nothing, that's what. The speaker magnet even says "Japan" on it. The battery label calls for an Eveready battery. That's the most American thing in here--and that's only a word. The tuning capacitor says Sankaishi, Japan. The transistors say TEN on them, T-E-N, which my regular viewers will know is the major transistor maker Kobe Kogyo. But no, Kobe Kogyo did not make this radio. It looks NOTHING like the radios they made, which are, frankly, a lot better looking than this little guy.
Now there's a story you may have heard about a city or area in Japan that was named Usa. U-S-A. The story goes that it was given this name so that products that came out of the factories built there could be said to be "Made in USA." I haven't confirmed this one way or the other. But what we are looking at here in this Omscolite may be just exactly that. Because there is just no way that this is an American-made radio.
Another possibility is that some shyster lawyer advised the Mr. Omsco--or the Omscolite people-- that if they were to import radio cabinets from Japan... and import radio chassis, separately, from Japan... they could put them together somewhere in the US and claim they are "Made in USA." I like this story because... well, I just do. And I like to think that the filed off earphone jack is a result of those shenanigans... and that the money they were going to make on this little deceit was all spent...and more... on paying somebody to get the earphone jack to fit. Hah. Serves them right. That's why I like this story.