I don’t trust this internet. I like my anonymous interpersonal communication iffy and fraught with static. Amateur radio appeals to the humanist in me. With ham radio, no one can hide. You can’t disappear behind the sound of your own voice. I can tell a lot from the how. As much as I can tell from the what. I can detect passion in my co-conspirators, sarcasm in my detractors, and mendacity in those who would otherwise disguise their true intention behind the messy written word.
I’ve had great friendships with people who no doubt wouldn’t stand to be around me in the physical world. I used to say, if I’d met any of my ex-wives over the radio, we’d still be together today. What I like most about ham radio is the way it makes me a better listener. Speaking of ex-wives, I’ve been told I’m not a good receiver of information. I talk my thoughts, there’s no filter. But on the radio, I’ll sit for hours and just listen. I feel privileged to hear the problems, the joy, the music of the common man. We’re all equal here.