I love the old meaning of 'broadcast': the act of casting seed far out for seeding. It brings back images tied into the land that hold great power over my mind.

When I broadcast seed onto the porch roof by my bedroom window, I seed birds, not earth, but the crop is nonetheless pleasurable. The crop this morning has been snowbirds, chickadees, and cardinals, male and female. I see a chickadee right now as I type. He buffets over the air while approaching the rooftop like a little boat upon active waves.

Yes Wordwind, I agree, the word broadcast is a perfect word for describing what it does, and we can easily understand why radio and television copped the term for their waves, but as for me, my mind's eye sees my Nanny Grider, pan-on-hip, broadcasting corn to her motley chickens. Nanny knew each chicken by name and would scold the greedy ones with a kick. She was a Southern Baptist and didn't much believe in pecking orders.

But another smiling image comes to mind when you bring up the word "broadcast". Maybe you have imbuded us with the happy scene of you feeding your birds by the window of your roof, so for us it has become an easy image to imagine. But when you write lines like...

I see a chickadee right now as I type. He buffets over the air while approaching the rooftop like a little boat upon active waves.

The image becomes transcendent.