I remember my first venture rooftop was to help turn our guy wire braced TV antanae to get the best signal. My mother was down below, yelling at us not to fall off the roof, managing to time it at a critical point when her voice distracted us to almost doing so.
My brother was inside, supposedly monitoring our monocrome set ( but in a custom cabinet with stereo player proudly 'handcrafted in the USA')until we got an optimum picture.
We must have made more adjustments than a sailor tacking across San Francisco Bay until he finally yelled at my mother, who yelled at my older brother. He promptly slipped and took out the best producing branch of our grapefruit tree.
That night we watched Red Skelton while my Chandler sheepranch raised mallinois barked at a bobcat that jumped on our cinderblock fence.
It was the Arizona monsoon season, and that night our antannae was quickly tweaked out of any usefullness, just as red said 'good night, and God bless.'
Somehow, the promises of seeing a superior image of Jerry Springer doesn't excite me so much as that first physical adventure at 5 y/o.
I've got my emergency radio, and late at night you can get old time radio broadcasts. Sometimes they play Red Skelton.