A few days after I moved in last February my sister-in-law Lynne sent me a quick text: "How's life in the old folks home?" I, of course, chortled. Old folks home? Old folks home! Here? With all these vibrant people involved in so many things? It made me laugh - as she knew it would - and I now refer to it as the OFH.
So, how is life in the OFH? It's good. I have settled in, learned lots of names and am getting used to its systems and protocols.
There is one problem however, a growing problem and it is sucking up my free time, time I used to spend writing my blog. What is it, you ask? Well, it is quite outside my comfort zone, keeps me chanting strange litanies while I drive, scatter little sticky notes of incomprehensible formulas and abbreviations around my apartment and has absolutely no association with my past life. No, I have not joined a coven or Scientology but perhaps something as earth shaking. . .
Get ready . . .
I am studying to become a ham radio operator. Yep, I who begged a dean at Berkeley to excuse me from the 6th science course I was supposed to take, who told the nun who taught me Algebra II that I had no idea what sine and cosine actually were, who quietly planned high school social activities during physics class - yep, that person hopes that, in a few weeks, I will be an official, FCC-licensed ham operator.
Bet you didn't expect that. Just think, if all goes well, I will soon be leaning into a microphone to whisper the dramatic words: This is Whiskey 7 November Tango Zulu (or whatever call signal the FCC assigns me).
Ah, the joy! The power! The anachronism!
Yes I know, it seems a bit irrelevant. Ham radio in this day and age? Well, actually, it was this seeming irrelevance that piqued my interest. Last April I attended a meeting of our ham radio club at the pleading of my neighbor Jack (probably close to 90 and a ham for the past 4 years). At the meeting an audience member asked the question I had been dying to ask - "Why do you do this in the age of computer technology?" What amused me, at the time, was the quivering among the club members (in their seats, walkers and wheel chairs) - all wanting to answer. They assured us that when true emergencies happen, when communication systems break down, it is the hams who come to the rescue. They quoted chapter and verse. "And," they added, "You can speak with people all over the world!" I started to say, "What about Skype?" and thought better of it. But their enthusiasm and joy in ham radio intrigued me and I decided I had to give it a try. I am somewhat proud of my use of my iPhone, iPad, computer and Kindle - why not go back in time to ham radio? Complete the picture, so to speak.
Oh how stupidly arrogant I was. I had no idea of the difficulty of the darn license exam to become a ham operator. Thankfully proficiency in morse code is no longer required but everything else physics-related is. I know for certain that Sister Mary Regina, my senior-year physics teacher, is laughing herself silly up in heaven. "If you had JUST PAID ATTENTION back then, young lady, you wouldn't be in the pickle you now find yourself."
And what a fix it is. I have charts taped up around my apartment listing band widths, abbreviations and common frequencies. I now understand differences among resonators, capacitors, inductors, receivers, mixers and product detectors. I find myself muttering things like "bipolar junction and field-effect are the two most common transistors" or "thank goodness for integrated circuits, we can do so much with them" or "I think that specific circuit uses a single pole, single throw switch." I now understand how AM is different from FM and why single side bands (SSB) are so helpful. WHAT????? None of this ever came out of my mouth before - not recently or when I was a high school. Hmmmm - for that matter were integrated circuits even invented back then?
I must admit I am quite proud of myself as I slowly work through each chapter of the handbook (about 150 dense pages of diagrams, charts and figures) but occasionally I question my sanity. Why am I doing this? I have nothing to prove. Sister Mary Regina has long since gone to her just reward. I think the answer is that it is so completely out of my field that I am just going to darn well do it. And, oh, I do love the other hams who live here. They are helpful, supportive and warm. They are delighted to have a "young one" in their midst and really hope I pass my test. Why, you ask? There is a very good reason. Tradition here states that I then pay for beer and pizza for the whole club because, get this, they all come with me to the exam. Yep, I take the exam, it is immediately scored and then (hopefully) we are all off to beer and pizza on my tab.
Oh, and there is a bit more pressure. The last club member to take the exam was Louise. She had let her license expire (I now know that a license lasts 10 years with 2 additional years to renew). Alas, Louise let more than 12 years pass so she had to retake the exam. She got 100% Here's the kicker. When she went to fill out the FCC paperwork, the space for age gave only 2 boxes - one for each digit - and she was 102. The FCC asked her to please list her age as 99 as they couldn't change the form at this time. Do you love it? Today Louise, at 104 and sharp as a tack, is the oldest licensed ham operator in the country.
If she can do it, so can I.
Wish me well.
I will keep you informed.
This is potential Whiskey 7 November Tango Zulu (or whatever) signing out.
So, how is life in the OFH? It's good. I have settled in, learned lots of names and am getting used to its systems and protocols.
There is one problem however, a growing problem and it is sucking up my free time, time I used to spend writing my blog. What is it, you ask? Well, it is quite outside my comfort zone, keeps me chanting strange litanies while I drive, scatter little sticky notes of incomprehensible formulas and abbreviations around my apartment and has absolutely no association with my past life. No, I have not joined a coven or Scientology but perhaps something as earth shaking. . .
Get ready . . .
I am studying to become a ham radio operator. Yep, I who begged a dean at Berkeley to excuse me from the 6th science course I was supposed to take, who told the nun who taught me Algebra II that I had no idea what sine and cosine actually were, who quietly planned high school social activities during physics class - yep, that person hopes that, in a few weeks, I will be an official, FCC-licensed ham operator.
Bet you didn't expect that. Just think, if all goes well, I will soon be leaning into a microphone to whisper the dramatic words: This is Whiskey 7 November Tango Zulu (or whatever call signal the FCC assigns me).
Ah, the joy! The power! The anachronism!
Yes I know, it seems a bit irrelevant. Ham radio in this day and age? Well, actually, it was this seeming irrelevance that piqued my interest. Last April I attended a meeting of our ham radio club at the pleading of my neighbor Jack (probably close to 90 and a ham for the past 4 years). At the meeting an audience member asked the question I had been dying to ask - "Why do you do this in the age of computer technology?" What amused me, at the time, was the quivering among the club members (in their seats, walkers and wheel chairs) - all wanting to answer. They assured us that when true emergencies happen, when communication systems break down, it is the hams who come to the rescue. They quoted chapter and verse. "And," they added, "You can speak with people all over the world!" I started to say, "What about Skype?" and thought better of it. But their enthusiasm and joy in ham radio intrigued me and I decided I had to give it a try. I am somewhat proud of my use of my iPhone, iPad, computer and Kindle - why not go back in time to ham radio? Complete the picture, so to speak.
Oh how stupidly arrogant I was. I had no idea of the difficulty of the darn license exam to become a ham operator. Thankfully proficiency in morse code is no longer required but everything else physics-related is. I know for certain that Sister Mary Regina, my senior-year physics teacher, is laughing herself silly up in heaven. "If you had JUST PAID ATTENTION back then, young lady, you wouldn't be in the pickle you now find yourself."
And what a fix it is. I have charts taped up around my apartment listing band widths, abbreviations and common frequencies. I now understand differences among resonators, capacitors, inductors, receivers, mixers and product detectors. I find myself muttering things like "bipolar junction and field-effect are the two most common transistors" or "thank goodness for integrated circuits, we can do so much with them" or "I think that specific circuit uses a single pole, single throw switch." I now understand how AM is different from FM and why single side bands (SSB) are so helpful. WHAT????? None of this ever came out of my mouth before - not recently or when I was a high school. Hmmmm - for that matter were integrated circuits even invented back then?
I must admit I am quite proud of myself as I slowly work through each chapter of the handbook (about 150 dense pages of diagrams, charts and figures) but occasionally I question my sanity. Why am I doing this? I have nothing to prove. Sister Mary Regina has long since gone to her just reward. I think the answer is that it is so completely out of my field that I am just going to darn well do it. And, oh, I do love the other hams who live here. They are helpful, supportive and warm. They are delighted to have a "young one" in their midst and really hope I pass my test. Why, you ask? There is a very good reason. Tradition here states that I then pay for beer and pizza for the whole club because, get this, they all come with me to the exam. Yep, I take the exam, it is immediately scored and then (hopefully) we are all off to beer and pizza on my tab.
Oh, and there is a bit more pressure. The last club member to take the exam was Louise. She had let her license expire (I now know that a license lasts 10 years with 2 additional years to renew). Alas, Louise let more than 12 years pass so she had to retake the exam. She got 100% Here's the kicker. When she went to fill out the FCC paperwork, the space for age gave only 2 boxes - one for each digit - and she was 102. The FCC asked her to please list her age as 99 as they couldn't change the form at this time. Do you love it? Today Louise, at 104 and sharp as a tack, is the oldest licensed ham operator in the country.
If she can do it, so can I.
Wish me well.
I will keep you informed.
This is potential Whiskey 7 November Tango Zulu (or whatever) signing out.
