Many thanks to Bob (K7ZB), who shares the following guest post: Experimenting with Low Voltage on the (tr)uSDX by Bob (K7ZB) I wanted to see how the (tr)uSDX would perform at lower voltages, so I decided to power it with a 6V Eveready lantern battery. With this setup, the radio delivered 1.1W to the antenna … Continue reading Bob Tests the (tr)uSDX at Low Voltage →

I am so grateful to be sober today. I’m grateful for my friends, my family and my partner. I’m grateful for AA and service. I’m grateful for rest, for books, for music, for new beginnings. I’m grateful for outlets that have nothing to do with drinking or drugs. I’m grateful for a great new job, I’m grateful for having resources and people to lean on.

Good morning my friends (: Hope everyone had a nice weekend and is ready for my weekly series of random thoughts strung together. 

Anyone who knows me knows that my favorite band in the whole world is Tool. And if you know Tool you know and love Lateralus. Anndddd if you know and love Lateralus you know that the best part of the song begins at 7:18. All of that to say (and yes this is a very niche intro but if you know…you know…) I am in fact spiraling out, and if I ride the spiral to the end I may just go where know one’s (me) been. 

Also for anyone who is not a Tool fan, the first 7 minutes of that song are great too the last three just really pack a punch. 

My point here is that I am losing my mind. I feel in constant limbo and so super powerless / out of control. There is no solution that feels right. I am in the spiral. BUT I went to a meeting on Saturday and I went to a meeting on Sunday and I realized that a lot of other people are also in a spiral. Their very own one and their world feels super small too. It was humbling in a way to remember that everyone has their own shit. Mine is the most important to ME but so is everyone else’s. 

I know I need to have a little patience. I know I need to rely on a power greater than myself. And so if I ride the spiral to the end, I will come out a different person in a few ways. And that’s the whole point of growth right? And let me be clear, I am NOT ready to start making silver linings out of this, however a series of small epiphanies is manageable right now. 

And on the other side of this coin is the idea that I – my Tool loving, black belt in karate, strong indepent woman self, certainly has always had a lot of fear. But it is NOT me to be so paralyzed by said fears. It is not me to not face them. That said, I am not going to go stand in the dog park with my dog for some exposure therapy. But maybe I’m willing to take some small steps.

In the meantime, I’m going to listen to listen to Mr. Maynard James (shout out to all my Perfect Circle and/or Puscifer exclusive fans – so niche today) and pray and carry on in the best way that I can because there will be an end to this spiral and I think it might end up being a nice end. 

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xx  

Jane

I’m grateful for getting to hold my grandson for the first time. I’m grateful for those big inquisitive eyes. I’m grateful for little feet and tiny hands. I’m grateful for the way he stretches and then snuggles back in. I’m grateful for two very new and very excellent parents. I’m grateful to be sober today.

LAST WEEK ON TFLMS:

song of the week:

TFLMS Weekend: Where Sobriety Isn’t Just a Consequence…

(last weekend)

By Teri KO4WFP Note: This is the second article for my trip to southwest Georgia at the beginning of January 2025. If you didn’t read the first article, it is available here: Elmodel Wildlife Management Area. Thursday, January 2nd, Daisy and I headed to Chickasawhatchee Wildlife Management Area (WMA). The park is a short 45-minute … Continue reading The POTA Babe’s Safari at Chickasawhatchee →

I’m grateful for an incredibly eventful week. I’m grateful for a dark, gray morning and really good coffee. I’m grateful for a chance to meet a certain grandson later today. I’m grateful for the beauty that unfolds in front of me. I’m grateful I found the way back. I’m grateful to be sober today.

song of the week:

This is so far out of character. Of course, there’s a story. This story began (for me) on Father’s Day in June. My daughter, K., and her husband, S., were here in New York City and we were meeting for brunch. I arrived at the swanky location K had selected and when I was seated, she pushed a card across the table and said, “Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”

Now right there, I’m going to pause and explain why I regard the simple utterance of those words as a plenty sufficient miracle. You see, in all of those years of drinking, I managed to destroy the family she grew up with and loved, I managed to lie to her in incredibly shameful ways. She hung in there, even when she was really angry, she kept trying to help. At one point, she even arranged for me to try a new IOP, went with me to the intake, drove me to the sessions. Of course, I would skip out on those sessions and go drink for the next two hours until she came and picked me up and then I would tell her how great the session had been and how many meaningful insights I had gleaned. This was definitely helping me get sober.

I got kicked out of the IOP after two weeks.

That didn’t go over great. Things got worse, more chaotic from there. She gamely kept trying to show up in my life, but you could see the fatigue. I moved to New York on the heels of the latest relationship disaster and she’d had enough. She was in New York visiting friends and came to see me and the new apartment. I got the talk wherein I was informed that while she very much appreciated everything I had done for her throughout her life, and while she still loved me, she now got to choose who was in her life and she just didn’t want to deal with my nonsense anymore. She didn’t believe I would stay sober. She was very suspicious about my motives in moving to New York. She’d finally had enough.1

I’ve written a lot about my fantastic and loving children and the journey back to them. Since this one is mostly about K., I think it’s only fair to mention my son:

Anyway, it’s Father’s Day 2024 and I open the card and immediately think there’s been a mistake, that she’s given me the card she meant for my Dad, her grandfather. I was very confused, because the card said:

Happy Father’s Day, Grandpa!

My head was kind of swimming, things seemed off-kilter and then this fell out of the card:

Suddenly, I got it. I looked across the table at K., she was already crying and just nodded her head, “yes.” About a millisecond later, I was crying, too. Of course, there was nothing sad, it was just pure, overwhelming joy and happiness. There was no thought, no processing, no thinking, no considering—I was just immediately and completely suffused with happiness and love—like a big wave knocking me over at the beach.

Things progressed and soon it came time for her to deliver. They went to the hospital on Monday and I spent a pretty sleepless night looking at my phone every 16 or 17 minutes. S. texted me when it was time to push and I just paced around the apartment for the next hour or so. Finally, the notification for the grandparents’ group text chimed and there was a photo of my beautiful, strong daughter looking like she had just fought a battle, but she’s got about the biggest smile I’ve ever seen and is holding the most precious, 2 minute-old baby boy.

I started crying right away and, to be honest, I still kind of am. I can’t really describe the swirl of powerful emotions, except that I guess this is what unbridled joy feels like. So, anyway, the song of the week!

It’s the summer of 1991, I was a 28 year-old young lawyer about to become a father. Someone had given us this “For the Children” cassette tape. It was a Disney benefit for pediatric AIDS and featured lots of famous people singing children’s songs. We weren’t parents yet, but we had started listening to the music already. Late on an August night, K. made her way into the world and arrived via C-section, I was in the room and the moment she emerged is one I will never, ever, ever forget. Her eyes were wide-open and so alert. It was like she was taking in everything at 3 minutes old. We locked eyes and it was the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt.

Bringing a new baby home is such an amazing event—and completely terrifying. Like all new parents there is the sudden realization that you are in charge and that taking care of the squalling 8 lbs is maybe not something you’re completely prepared to do. But you do it. There wasn’t much in the way of paternity leave back then, so I was working pretty quickly again. One of those first mornings I walked out of our house, started the car and someone had been playing this tape and I heard this song.

I burst into tears.

“Getting to Know You,” was originally from the Rogers & Hammerstein show, “The King and I.” And if you’d like to know the truth, having Julie Andrews sing, “You are precisely my cup of tea” to me would be a high point of my life. It’s not a romantic falling in love song, it’s about the incredibly special process of getting to build a relationship with a child.

Getting to know you, 
Getting to know all about you, 
Getting to like you, 
Getting to hope you like me

I loved being a dad. I loved doing everything with my kids. I’ve seen “The Little Mermaid,” and “Aladdin,” and “Beauty and the Beast,” thousands of times. I’ve coached a wide variety of youth sports teams. I cheerfully attended practices, concerts, plays, recitals and a literal shit-ton of school events. I loved reading to them at night. I loved playing the imaginary restaurant game where I would provoke the four year-old proprietress to frustration by continuing to order “weasel cakes,” when I had been advised 5 times now that not only did the restaurant not serve weasel cakes, the proprietress was not even sure there was such a thing as “weasels.”2

You could look at my actions, my conduct, my drinking, as representing a conscious decision to throw all of that away. That’s why it’s so hard to understand us alcoholics and addicts, why it’s so hard to get over the things we do. One of the many things that alcohol enables is compartmentalization. When I was drinking, I was excused from drawing connections between the different parts of my life. What happened with the kids was entirely distinct from the rest of my life. The drinking helped convince me that this was true—that what I did in the rest of my life didn’t really have anything to do with the kids. I loved them obviously, so what’s the problem?

That’s the kind of deluded, muddled thinking that attends long-term alcoholism and addiction.

At 28, I was drinking secretly almost every day. I was both building a family and a secret life at the same time. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to rid me of the terrible knowledge that all of this was going to come crashing down one day. But, I could drink enough to forget for one day, for today. I’d listen to this song in my car on the way to the office, think about the tiny, sweet baby at home and let the tears flow down my face.

I loved her so much. It’s a kind of love that is wholly different than anything else I’d felt in my entire life. It’s completely consuming and a little terrifying, too. When the dark thoughts would creep in, what if something happened to her? That was too much to even think about. More tears for sure. I was completely in love with that little baby at home: The way her eyes already danced, the smiles she already beamed, the way she loved to be held and snuggled. There was so much joy and happiness,

Because of all of the beautiful and new things I’m learning about you

Little RH was born on Tuesday morning and he’s a bundle of sweetness and cuteness for sure:

I’m going to be honest here. There have been moments over the last several months when I’ve been a little less enthusiastic about assuming the grandfather mantle. I think mostly out of vanity, not wanting to recognize that yes, I am old enough to have a grandchild.3

I’m an idiot.

I’m quite good at proving that over and over again. But don’t worry, I’m not going to f*** this up. I’m all in. All week, every time I look at one of the pictures, I burst into tears. I imagine how mind-blowing and how fantastic it’s going to be to hold him for the first time. How amazing it is that my little daughter, the one who didn’t believe in weasels, is a mom now. That’s a beautiful, beautiful thing all by itself. I’ve been alarming people on the subway all week, because while clinging to the pole and staring absently at the ads, I suddenly break out into maniacal Jack Nicholson-type smiles. Insane, huge, idiot-sized grins.

I’m imagining holding that little boy in my arms. I’m imagining all the things I’m going to do with him, the places I’m going to take him, the things I’m going to teach him, the things I’m going to read him. But mostly, I’m imagining how much I’m going to love him.

Birth represents another renewal in the great cycle the universe spins for us. It’s a chance to find that there’s even more love inside me than I had previously thought. It’s a chance to mend even more fences with my daughter. It’s a chance to be part of a family that I thought I had ruined. It’s a chance to fall deeply, deeply in love again.

The gratitude lists kind of write themselves these days. I’m getting on a train later today and headed to Boston. I barely slept last night, I’m so excited. I’m like the kids waiting at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning. There’s a part of the song of the week that still makes me cry just about every f***ing time I hear it:4

Haven’t you noticed, suddenly I’m bright and breezy?

I’ve got a train to catch.

It’s a very happy Friday.

On Thursday, January 16, 2025, I had a long list of errands to run in town, including a session with my physical therapist. After all the heavy lifting and chainsawing I’ve done post-Hurricane Helene, my shoulder has been letting me know it’s not too happy. The PT sessions are definitely helping, though—they’re tough, but I’ve … Continue reading Super Portable POTA: One Watt, One Tiny Key, Big Fun! →

Last year, I mentioned—either in a field report or video—that I carry a full Elecraft KH1 field kit in my everyday backpack, my EDC (Everyday Carry) pack. That led to a great question from Terry, a reader who was studying for his ham radio license at the time. He wrote: “Thomas, thank you so much … Continue reading A Sampling From My EDC Pack: Ten Essentials I Carry Everywhere →

I’m grateful for booking a trip back to NYC next month to visit family. I’m grateful to be in a mental headspace where returning home isn’t a trigger to upend things, but rather an opportunity to make peace. I’m grateful for a joyful anniversary meeting where folks with varying years shared honestly about their recovery journeys. I’m grateful for listening to my body and instead of pushing myself to run like the addict I tend to be, I took a rest day to heal and (hopefully) regain my strength for tomorrow. I’m grateful for preventive medication that is easily available nowadays and works real miracles. I’m grateful for an event I was hoping would come to fruition not happening because it shifted me to accept, let go, and take stock of what truly matters. I’m grateful for watching a TV show that reminded me of the privileges I have as a gay man in this country and knowing I should use that privilege to empower me to be the most authentic version of myself. I’m grateful for becoming better at being vulnerable and asking for help rather than playing the self-limiting lone wolf card. I’m grateful for a long, rich conversation with my cousin about how to share some life news with my parents and getting solid advice from her on how to meet them with empathy, kindness, and love. I’m grateful for and proud of the life I’ve built in sobriety.

This past week I turned 40. Investigating my feelings around hitting this milestone have been revealing. Mostly positive, but there is always stuff to ruminate on that is a little harder to address. To start off I’ll say even going through the exercise of quiet reflection on the past ten years is never something I’d do during my drinking days. It was the much too familiar search for external validation to confirm how I should think about myself. Of course when the right form of validation failed to happen in the fashion I wanted, the maladaptive next solution was drinking till I blacked out. Should I consider even for a second the repercussions of my behavior? Perhaps research whether what my gut was telling is healthy? Nope.

My early 30s is when my drinking problem began ramping up. I recently glanced at pictures from January 2015 on my phone. It was rough. I can see my face hollowing out, my eyes constantly glassy. Knowing what’s soon to come over the next few years makes me scared and sad. I still had enough of the outside accomplishments in place right at 30 so people weren’t too suspicious. Shortly thereafter though I would radically devolve. Losing relationships left and right, becoming virtually unemployable, and engaging regularly in risky behaviors. Life was devoid of peace.

But I don’t have to drink today or wallow in self-pity while recollecting what has already happened. As I enter a new decade, my life is complex, like most people on this planet, but ultimately quite rewarding. I have a design for living in the form of the 12 Steps that I can rely on to keep me centered when things go right, when things go wrong, and for everything in between. Sure, I have the tinge of regret in the back of my head wishing I hadn’t thrown away the multitude of blessings bestowed on me by prioritizing drinking. However, I am learning ways to transform that sadness and regret into wisdom, service, and acceptance of the bad for if it all hadn’t happen then I wouldn’t have what I have now.

I wasn’t equipped to handle the variety of riches I was given at 30. I didn’t have the life skills to interact with the world in ways that protected my mental health. For whatever reasons I needed to withstand more tumult before I could figure out a sustainable existence. There’s a straightforward AA phrase I often repeat to myself: “time takes time”. I like it because it reminds me to practice patience, a concept I forget easily. I needed time in my addictions to gather more evidence on how not to exist. In recovery I feel I can regularly lean on that past evidence to fuel my passion for keeping me away from a drink and to stay curious around expanding my emotional sobriety.

Recovery will definitely take time. Hopefully it’ll take the rest of my life. Overnight my vices, my regrets, my traumas will not subside. It will be a process. I just need to stay disciplined around investing in the process. When I get bored or complacent at certain junctures then I should spice things up. It may involve going to new meetings, searching for sponsees, picking up another healthy routine, finding opportunities to be of service to my fellow humans, etc. I am just beyond relieved that I got the chance to turn things around. I could have very easily died or inflicted some even more serious damage given my inebriated antics. Somehow I was spared. I was given an olive branch by the Universe to do better. While I still momentarily forget to do that, I feel my general trend line for achieving good is following the correct, upward direction. Getting to 40 and knowing I can find ways to live serenely if I stay sober are tremendously rewarding personal achievements.

Last week my partner and I went on a mini road trip for my birthday. One of the places we visited was the Grand Canyon, which I hadn’t been to since I was 11 or 12 years old. While driving there I thought about that memorable vacation in my youth where we’d gone with some extended family. During it I was introduced by my cousin to one of my favorite ’90s bands, The Cranberries, and my favorite song of theirs, Dreams (funnily enough it was through the Mission Impossible soundtrack). Growing up in a strict, traditionalist immigrant household I wasn’t allowed to listen to Western music so hearing this song, this band, was a revelatory experience as a child. Last week as we entered the park I thought to myself how much life has changed since that trip. I am such a different person. I have gone through a wealth of crazy experiences. Yet there are constants. My love for Dreams continues. The epic natural vista before me has barely changed and will probably not in my lifetime. These thoughts about time’s passage swirled around in my head. Trying to grasp how life can simultaneously go by so quickly and so slowly was trippy. If I ever visit the Grand Canyon again in the future, what else will have changed? What will be the same?

Having these existential thoughts was humbling. I can never pretend to fathom how the world works in the ways that it does. What I can do though is focus on my daily actions. I can bring it back to the minute details of my existence. I can utilize the short time I have on this Earth relatively speaking to keep engaging in productive activities that permit me to learn, to grow, and to be of service. Dwelling on resentments, petty power plays, and other self-destructive matters only ensures life passes by quickly. Daily peace for me will come through daily work in this Program. Thank you AA for helping me not only reach four decades of life, but also willingly inhabit a space of reflection and revelation.

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Last year, at the Tokyo Ham Fair, Yaesu unveiled the long-awaited FTX-1F portable HF transceiver. After years of speculation, we finally have a successor to Yaesu’s venerable FT-817/818 product line on the horizon—a radio series with an impressive run of over two decades. I’ve enjoyed reading the flurry of comments that continue today from readers … Continue reading Are we spoiled for choice? Why There’s No Better Time to Be a QRP Field Operator! →

I am so grateful to be sober today. I’m grateful that Ori is continuing to get better and better. I’m grateful for my family, for Tim, for starting my new job today, for service and for AA. I’m grateful for coffee, for cleaning and putting the living room back together, for celebrating at the anniversary meeting last night, for rest, for heat, and for a sober life.

Gooood morning my friends. Hope everyone had a lovely weekend (: 

I’m coming at yah technically on Sunday night because tomorrow (today) is a busy day. I’m starting a new job today — that was the secret scary thing I couldn’t tell you about a few weeks back I was interviewing for a new job. 

So here comes the word vomit – yes a few weeks ago I was so nervous about the interview. Looking back at it I hadn’t been happy at my old job since July and so over the holiday break I really hit the ground running with applying for jobs. I got an interview, the same day I had a second interview. That Wednesday I had a job offer, Thursday I accepted and Friday I resigned from my now, old job. 

Then that Monday my dog got attacked, Tuesday he had life saving surgery, Saturday we got to take him home, today I have my last rabies shot, my boy gets better every single day but I feel like Rapunzel locked in her tower.

How am I ever going to walk him by myself again? How am I going to keep him safe? I wish I could just say ‘we’re never going to the dog park again’ but this happened in our building where we come in and out of everyday. I am terrified of leaving, I will not get back into the elevator. I am so scared of him getting better and then this happening again. 

I am nervous to start this job. What if I’m not good enough? Will I succeed? Will I be happy? Will I get to spend more time with my pup who I am now afraid to walk? 

And most importantly, my biggest ask to God is to just keep helping my boy survive. Keep him fighting. But I am so overwhelmed in my head by SO MUCH that is out of my control right now. 

This month has flown by and has been really hard. In the middle of it I picked up a sponsee who I got to meet in person for the first time on Sunday and that was wonderful. While all of this was happening, God presented me with so many opportunities to be of service and I took every single one. A part of me still struggles with the idea of a punishing God so I think I was afraid that if I didn’t take them, God would take my dog away. 

But I know that’s not how God works and I really really really had to force myself to NOT think like that while things were bad. God gave me all of these opportunities because nothing distracts you more than helping someone else navigate sobriety. 

So I don’t even know what I’m trying to say today. That I am overwhelmed. I am scared. I am grateful. I am sober. I am excited. I am nervous. All at the same time I am all of these things. 

If this has taught me anything it’s that so many things are just so trivial. My boy is ALIVE. Tim and I are SOBER. We had so much help and people who cared and showed up and helped and loved and prayed. My relationship with God changed. My relationship with myself is changing. 

The fact that we are all okay and we are sober (the dog is on a shit ton of drugs he’s definitely not sober but he’s definitely one of us now) and that we have so many people who love us and we love back is truly the most important thing. 

So, thanks for listening to me today. It’s not going to be 100% better anytime soon – I don’t know what 100% better even looks like right now. But I know that I am so grateful for each and every one of you. 

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xx  

Jane