Month: October 2024

Many thanks to Jonathan KM4CFT who shares this article with us.  If you have an article in your head and want to have it posted here, let’s keep this community going while our friend Thomas continues to help his neighbours. Draft up your story in an email with reference points to the pictures you want … Continue reading The Design Philosophy of the CFT1: From concept to product →

I’m grateful for a really beautiful morning. I’m grateful for a full heart. I’m grateful for podcast recording sessions. I’m grateful for remembering in the nick of time. I’m grateful for a big long breath. I’m grateful to be sober today.

Mystery ?? Button

song of the week:

Last weekend, I listened to a certain song and decided, “ah, this is the song of the week.” I probably said this out loud because I do a fair amount of talking to myself aloud.1 Then I spent the week composing this week’s essay in my head and it was going to be really good. There were all of these clever connections between this song and recovery and stuff—it was going to be so good, and really thoughtful, too.

Speaking of good and thoughtful, have you listened to the podcast?

All week, I’d hear some other great song, and maybe listen to it twice if I was really feeling it. I’d start to think “oh, this could be a good song of the week.”2 I might even start writing the first paragraph or two in my head and come up with some snappy lines, and then I’d remember, “wait, we have a song of the week.”3 And I’d go back to the “song of the week,” a little ashamed of even having thought about finding a replacement.

I’ve been working pretty hard the last few weeks, which is good because I’m building a law practice and busy means it’s working. Also, I really like it, so even when I find myself getting home late, stopping by for a quick chat with my pals at Gotham Pizza and then home to finish a few things up, I don’t mind that much.4 I woke up this morning feeling just generally really good. Happy. Sore from a lot of walking and standing around swanky parties working potential clients. I practiced the elaborate coffee worship rituals that take place in the very early mornings here and began scrolling through the playlist to start listening to the intended song of the week again.

Then I spied this song, which I hadn’t played in a long time. I played it on the big stereo in my den. That was the mistake. I realized that I didn’t just know the words, I know the intonations and the breaths, even the “huhs,” and “dahs,” like, “huh, draw blood” at the end. Yes, I was singing along. Also, you have to say this line out loud to really appreciate it:

Little old lady got mutilated, late last night.

Also, I had a snowball fight with Warren Zevon’s band in 1982 (?) on the University of Wisconsin campus. This is a true story. It was a super cold night and my pals and I had just seen Warren Zevon perform live at the theater at the Student Union. We might have been standing in a secluded area outside the union behind a kiosk (it was a windbreak so that a certain kind of cigarette could be ignited for the cold chilly walk home). This happened to be directly across the street from where the tour bus was parked. Hypothetically.

We were minding our own business and being reminded about this one Jack London short-story where the guy fumbled his last match and couldn’t get a fire lit and that meant he was going to die. Our situation, though not actually life-threatening, did seem just about as dire, as my friend Jack kept running through a dwindling supply of matches, saying “shit,” every time the wind put another one out.

Suddenly, a snowball hit my friend Glenn in the back shoulder. Pretty hard. It made a noisy “thwumpff” when it impacted Glenn’s parka. He immediately retorted, “what the f***?” We began scanning the area to see where the fire was coming from. It wasn’t hard to find the culprits. It was the guys from the band, standing next to the tour bus, shivering in street clothes and laughing as they readied another salvo.

You know how I roll, “f*** me? No, f*** you.” It was on. I’m just going to say, even as college sophomores or juniors, whatever we were, we still spent a lot of our time on snowball fights. Winter lasted for a bit in Wisconsin. Also we had cold weather gear on. The fight was savage and brief. The band took cover behind the tour bus and we resorted to lobbing snowballs on super high trajectories, like mortar rounds, but it was a low percentage shot. Then a kind of plaintive voice called out for mercy from behind the bus. Well, maybe it wasn’t a call for mercy, I think the guy actually said, “Hey, do you guys have any extra weed?”

Extra? Anyway, in this hypothetical story, it might have happened that while the guys in the band didn’t have weed, they did have a lighter. We were not invited onto the tour bus, so we stood awkwardly for a few minutes sharing a hypothetical few puffs asking really awkward strained questions that were mostly ignored. Then they got cold and took the hypothetical thing that had been generating the puffs onto the bus and said, “thanks,” without really looking back.

That night shattered some illusions for me. They were rockstars and they didn’t have weed? Hmmm, maybe the lawyer gig would be better after all. Anyway, all of that is to say, I heard the siren call of this song and completely forgot about the other song of the week, old what’s her name? Watching the video, I’m reminded how insanely cool and weird Warren Zevon was. I loved this album—there were so many great songs—all of which had this zany anarchy to them. The famous line, “Send Lawyers, Guns and Money,” was a favorite as was the song where “Johnny” kills his prom date and “makes a cage of her bones.” Good stuff.

While I was listening and singing along, I’m reminded how many days a week I wake up in a pretty good f******* mood. It’s not that anything special is happening, I’m just happy, content, kind of in a groove. Is everything where I’d like it to be? No, but things are good. There is calm and content and peace coursing through the byways that used to run at about 14% alcohol by volume.

The song restarted again, and I just felt this deep sigh come out, my shoulders relaxed and I felt that tingly feeling that says things are really pretty good. Things are good. Maybe I haven’t mentioned this, I’m going to have 5 years of sobriety next Tuesday. Ha, that sounds amazingly banal.

“I’m going to have five years of sobriety on Tuesday.”

Maybe that’s how it should be. Sober anniversaries are very special and very odd events—at the same time. Those early anniversaries were so meaningful, they were like Boy Scout merit badges and I proudly raised my hand at meetings when they asked if anyone was celebrating an anniversary in October. Now, my anniversary kind of sneaks up on me. I agreed to speak at a meeting on Monday a while ago, and just realized, “oh, that’s right before my anniversary.”

I never believed this was possible. There were literally thousands of afternoons and evenings spent on barstools where I convinced myself that this was the only life I could lead. A life of quiet desperation, resentments seething inside like huge ocean storms and requiring prodigious quantities of Elizabeth Spencer to calm the seas.

This morning, I laughed at the lines in this song, laughed some more when I watched Warren Zevon’s ironic and goofy way of singing this song,

Here’s all I have for you, life is good, Life is funny. Life is sweet and surprising. Life is beautiful and meaningful, especially on these dark mornings when I’m the only one in the world watching the sun come up. It’s possible other people in the city are up and watching, too, but it feels like it’s a show being presented for my benefit. That’s how life feels to me these days.

The funny thing about sober anniversaries is that they kind of commemorate one of the worst days in your life. I mean, in retrospect, October 22nd is a fantastic day, the day my life changed for good and in a way I could never have imagined. But October 21 was not one of my better days. I’ve told the story before:

Maybe I’m a bit of a curmudgeon, but my sobriety date doesn’t feel like a birthday to me—it’s way more complicated than that. For sure, it’s a day that marks the beginning of a new life for me, but it’s also a little like visiting a cemetery and paying respects to everything that had to happen and had to end. I think it’s important to remember what came before the sobriety date, because that makes me even more grateful for everything since that day.

Ha, that’s from exactly two years ago, today. I know how much has changed in my life. Even from where I was just two years ago. I can feel the difference every day. I do feel the difference every day. I don’t crave alcohol, I finally came to see all of that time sitting on barstools throwing off sauvignon blanc-infused witticisms to no one in particular, didn’t really count as living a life. When I think back to those days, those years of fight and struggle and shame and fear and desperation, it feels like being closed in a very dark, very small space.

Now that I’m talking about it, everything suddenly makes a lot of sense. When I listened to Werewolves of London this morning, well, it started feeling like a day of hooky, like those days in high school when I’d call the attendance office, imitate my Dad and excuse myself from school. That kind of day. A deep breath, laugh a little, nothing is that serious kind of day. I realize I need a day like that, maybe an entire weekend like that. Because as nonchalant as I was just a few paragraphs ago, the weight of everything that has happened over the last few five years sometimes feels enormous.

When I used to hear people at meetings say things like they were celebrating five years, that just seemed impossible. I could never even manage ninety days of sobriety during those years. On Monday, when I qualify at this meeting, I’m going be one of those people who says those completely impossible things. I will say that on October 22nd, I’ll be celebrating five years of sobriety.

I’ll be boasty for a second and say that I’ve achieved a lot in my life. But out of all of the things I’ve accomplished, nearly all of them seemed at least somewhat possible from the very start. There’s only thing I’ve done that did actually seem impossible, not just hard, impossible, at the start. You think I’m going to say something like getting sober was the thing I did that seemed impossible at the start.

No, the thing I did that seemed completely impossible at the start was this: I started to live my own life, the one that was meant for me.

I stopped listening to what other people said, I stopped listening to what I imagined people were saying. I stopped listening to the nonsense I said. I started listening to my heart. I stopped pretending and started just being. I worked to empty my mind and let my soul be filled. It was when I did those things that my life began to change. It’s when I continue to do those things that my life continues to change.

I didn’t get sober by stopping drinking. I got sober by finally embracing the life I was meant to lead; there is no purpose for drinking in that world. Maybe some of the things I used to have or used to want are no longer within my grasp, maybe some of those losses are hard to accept, even today. Five years of sobriety isn’t five years of unicorns dancing and bowls of Lucky Charms being magically refilled by loving leprechauns. It’s been five years of happy times and true sadness, connection and loss, grief, acceptance and even some loneliness.

But it’s been five years of being myself, which sadly, is a too-small percentage when the denominator is at least 60. But here’s the thing, my historical happiness batting average doesn’t matter so much. These five years have given me joy and beauty and laughter and love that I could never have imagined. These five years have built me into a person that I could never have imagined. These five years have gotten me exactly to where I needed to go, and exactly how I needed to get there.

These five years finally let me see that I was enough for the world, just as I was. I could finally see that I didn’t have to pull off elaborate scenes and shows to demonstrate to others just how much I deserved their love and admiration. I could just be myself and the right things would happen, the right people would show up.

Tonight being Friday, one of those right people I’m counting on showing up is the person who delivers the delicious Chinese food that I reward myself with on many Friday nights. These five years have taught me that the greatest gift is simply sitting quietly by myself and realizing that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. These five years have taught me that I have everything I need and that things meant for me cannot be avoided. I feel like this might be what they call “serenity.”

Tonight, I’m hoping that one of things meant for me is dumplings and hot & sour soup.

Happy Friday.

Because I receive so many tips from readers here on QRPer, I wanted way to share them in a concise newsletter format.  To that end, welcome to QRPer Notes, a collection of links to interesting stories and tips making waves in the world of radio! Foldable feet for small radios Many thanks to Randall (K8UFM) … Continue reading QRPer Notes: Foldable Stands for Small Radios, ’79 Okino Tori-Shima DXpedition, Another Watertight Case for the KH1, and Demystifying SWR! →

Editor note – Please enjoy this guest post from Jeff Bourgeois VE7EFF. Sometimes the elements just aren’t in my favor.  I knew activating Echo Lake Provincial Park CA-3459 would be a propagation challenge.  This POTA Park has never been fully activated before.  Last year one operator attempted it and was only able to log four … Continue reading Breaking the Speed Barrier at 1.8 Contacts Per Hour via CA-3459 →

I’m grateful that the last two meetings I’ve attended have had the topic be “gratitude” (and it’s not even Thanksgiving!). I’m grateful for the positivity and hopefulness in the shares resulting from this topic. I’m grateful for the reminder that surrendering doesn’t mean giving up, but rather to simply stop fighting. I’m grateful for being in a position in life to help others and be solicited for advice. I’m grateful for running through a heavily tree-lined neighborhood and getting color overload from the changing leaves. I’m grateful Colorado sends educational pamphlets detailing the myriad of ballot measures so voters know about what’s happening. I’m grateful to live in a democracy where we have the freedom to speak our minds and be our authentic selves. I’m grateful for the interior design compliments I got because it’s a passion I’ve only recently discovered in sobriety. I’m grateful to be in a time period where I can hear sober fellows share about their experience living through the AIDS epidemic and what attending AA meetings was like then. I’m grateful for the Godiva milk chocolate gift bag my partner’s patient gave him because they’ve been a delicious treat to cap my dinners these past several days. I’m grateful to be able to reflect on my past and feel all the emotions without spiraling.

I think I’ve shared here that when it comes to family my relationship with them is tricky. While they’ve done incredible things to reel me back from the brink, they’ve also done more than a few things to place me there. The process of me grappling with this reality had been a cornerstone of my drinking. I come from a large immigrant family that while growing up in NYC was very tight, very involved in one another’s lives. During childhood that was awesome because it meant I had an instant friend group in my cousins. We would have tons of fun hanging out at each other’s homes, having sleep overs, playing table tennis, going on vacations – basically all the cool kid’s stuff.

However as we matured our lives diverged and relationships grew complicated. A slew of deaths changed the overall dynamics, as did marriages and increased geographic separation. Our parents generation also splintered and that heavily influenced how we interacted (or, more accurately, did not). For myself I hid away from everyone because I didn’t want to reveal my sexuality. There was one cousin though, we’ll call her “Anjali”, who made it her earnest goal to maintain ties despite the fissures that had formed. Over the years she has emerged as the only one who is truly making an effort to repair frayed relations.

As my alcoholism grew worse, it was Anjali who came to know of it first after my parents. We had a few tumultuous years where my drinking did a number on our relationship, but to her credit she stuck with me. Her understanding of this disease based on outside experiences was helpful because unlike other family members she brought an empathy to the chaos that nobody else did. It was her who on a frigid February morning drove me to the sober home on the UES where I finally started my journey in AA.

I bring Anjali up because she visited me in Denver this past weekend. To be honest I had been quite nervous for a few weeks prior to us meeting up. Thanks to what I’ve taken away from the 12 Steps, I know the importance of setting up healthy boundaries. Having genial, but sporadic communication with family is part of that boundary setting for me right now. Every time they enter the picture, even good ones like her, I feel angst. Distance allows me to avoid being part of the gossip that inevitably makes the rounds. As a sober gay guy who comes from a devoutly religious community I can certainly provide plenty of fodder. So it was before I even met up with Anjali that I was bringing all this baggage, all this agita into the mix.

Unsurprisingly our time together on Sunday was a blast. We reverted to our old happy childhood ways as soon as we saw each other. I was ambivalent about taking her to my house initially so we instead went to the Botanical Gardens and caught up. After some deep, honest conversation about where we are both at in life I decided to introduce her to my partner, who had till that point never met a member of my family. Upon reflection it’s super meaningful that Anjali was the one to embrace him first. I’ve spent decades fretting about and drinking over sharing my life as a gay man with any family. To have this moment where it came together with such joy, such positivity, such receptiveness was heartwarming. After hanging on the couch for a few hours we grabbed dinner, caught the fantastic SNL episode hosted by Ariana Grande on TV, and then I drover her back to the hotel.

I’m still processing the events from Anjali’s visit. She and I have been through a lot. There are only a handful of people who have stayed in my life that knew me when I was drinking. She thankfully is one of them. When I see her now it is a helpful reflection for me on just how far I’ve come in sobriety. The bad events of my life while drinking will of course never disappear, but there is a way I can carry that history as I move forward with understanding and peace. Through conversations with people like her I can remember opportunities for redemption and rebuilding exist. Our connection is a lifesaving gift for me. I love being sober. I love being in AA. Doing the hard, painful internal investigation is worth it because it means I can experience beautiful moments like this.

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Good Morning, Friends, For those who haven’t followed my previous posts, we live in a rural mountain community in Swannanoa, NC, and were hit hard by the unprecedented destruction caused by Hurricane (later Tropical Storm) Helene. I’ve been sharing regular updates to chronicle our recovery efforts and, naturally, to highlight the vital role amateur radio … Continue reading Helene Aftermath Update: Power to the People and the State of Restoration (Tuesday, October 15, 2024) →

In recent times I’ve been feeling the urge to start experimenting with telescopic vertical whip antennas.  Vertical whip antennas appear to be somewhat simpler to setup than elevated dipoles.  So, it seems like a worthwhile endeavor to experiment with. Recently, I purchased two Chameleons telescoping verticals whips:  their 17’ version and the 25’ version, for … Continue reading Activating CA-4252 With A Novel Coaxial Sleeve Telescopic Vertical Dipole →

I’m so grateful to be sober. I’m grateful for a short work week this week, for a day to myself and a day with my family. I’m grateful for Timmy’s birthday tomorrow, for our friends and for our life together. I’m grateful for a slow morning, for a sleepy puppy, for coffee and a house full of groceries. I’m grateful to work from home, for comfy sweatshirts, for the fall, for my sponsor, AA and service.

Goooood morning my friends (:

As always, I hope everyone had a lovely weekend, you’re feeling ready for the fresh week ahead.

I am off from work this Thursday and Friday and truly the fact that I only have to make it through three days is everything I need to make it a good week.

I know last week’s post wasn’t necessarily the most positive and quite honestly, I still feel pretty much the same as I did last Monday. God didn’t come down and whisk my blah feelings away in the past week BUT I’ve done tiny little bite sized things that feel like tiny little steps forward.

Instead of continuing with The Artists Way my sponsor and I started reading the 12/12. Which feels like a nice way to quickly go back through the steps and really hit on the ones I need the most. I need to expand my conception of God; I need to revisit turning my will and my life over. I’m going through a little bit of an agnostic period which I NEVER thought would happen. And it’s nice to remember that even when I’m unsure HP is always there.

I need to do a fresh Step 4 and 5. Take a new look at my defects, get back on the horse with 10 and 11.

My sponsor has me writing why I’m still in AA today and how I am powerless currently. Because yes yes I know I’m powerless over alcohol. But in this current moment, I’m also powerless over my fear. And that fear is as big as I’m going to get fired and be homeless on the street with my dog, to as little as Tim is going to hate me because I haven’t gotten him anything for his birthday other than dinner tomorrow.

All in all, it feels like a step in the right direction. Back to basics in a way. And my sponsor reminded me yesterday that I didn’t get sober to be paralyzed by fear all the time. I got sober to have a life but what kind of life is one that is filled with terror.

So hopefully this leaves everyone on a more optimistic note that last week. Because I am feeling just a tiny bit better than last Monday. And that’s the thing, it always gets better even if it starts small.

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Xx

Jane

Editor note – Please enjoy this guest post from Conrad Troutmann N2YCH. Thank you “deputy” Vince, VE6LK, for assisting in managing some guest contributor posts for QRPer.com. I’m so happy to hear Thomas and his family rode the storm out safely and send him my best wishes and hope things return to normal soon. Here’s … Continue reading Conrad has a sunny and beautiful activation at Silver Sands State Park →

Good Morning, Friends, If you haven’t read my previous posts, here’s the situation in a nutshell: we live in a rural mountain community in Swannanoa, NC, where the bridge connecting us to the outside world was swept away during the 1 in 1,000-year flood event caused by Tropical Storm Helene. Recovery Period Since my last update, I’ve … Continue reading Helene Aftermath Update: Outreach, Amateur Radio Connections, and Tree Removal (Sunday, October 13, 2024) →