Newsletter talk

A few hours ago one the of the hams who advertises his business in the newsletter called me to change his ad. It is a small change and one he makes every year at this time. I took the information and told him I'd pass it on since I was no longer the newsletter editor. "Well, that's not good. You're the best editor we've ever had," he said. "You are one smart and talented lady." I thanked him. Then he asked where he should send the money for the change in the ad and I told him there was no charge. It's a small change, a few words, no need to charge for that since the newsletter isn't a paying concern. He thanked me and told me he was going to miss working with me. That from a man who didn't like me very much at first because I left out his ad a few issues.

At that time, he called me and raked me over the coals, explaining his ad had run in the newsletter for over 30 years and I'd better put it back in. I explained that I didn't know anything about his arrangements and no one told me about him or his ad. He apologized and has been a sweetheart ever since.

This is the week for compliments and news about the newsletter. The printer told me the last time I saw him he was going to miss working with a professional like me who knew how to put together a newsletter. He and his wife said they'd miss my smile and funny stories and made me promise to call from time to time and visit once in a while. His wife, Barb, told me she read one of my stories in Cup of Comfort and that she couldn't help crying. She told all her friends she knew the author and that they had to pick up the book.

Then I got an email from a good friend who I had asked for input about the newsletter since I wasn't sure if he knew I had resigned. He said he started reading the newsletter when I took over and that it was "...more fun to read, more thought provoking, and I've wanted to read it over
again at times." He added, " You've had an impossible job keeping it going and have done admirably." I didn't think he was paying attention. I was wrong.

I changed the ad for Jess, made up a new one, and sent it to the president of the club to use for the newsletter. Over the past month I have sent him enough material to put together a fairly good newsletter, but it doesn't look like there will be an issue this month. He said he'd use the ad for the combined August/September issue. I was afraid of this, that the newsletter would fold when I resigned, and it still may.

Had I not volunteered to edit the newsletter three years ago, it probably would have died sooner, and it is sad to see it happen. I don't want to see the newsletter die, but I also don't want to be the one to keep it going alone, even though I have thought of putting together a quick newsletter and sending it to the president of the club to add the minutes and his column, which he always sent right at the last minute before the deadline. I am torn between needing to focus on my own writing and work and wanting to help them out, but I'm gagging my better nature and locking it in a soundproof room so that it can't get out.

The compliments are nice and coming from people whose opinions I respect, but the compliment I wanted and needed was for the members to be so excited they wanted to contribute and I'd have so many submissions I'd have to keep a backlog. It never happened.

Although plaques and certificates and the occasional congratulatory dinner are nice, they are not the reason I volunteered to edit the newsletter. I wanted to be a part of the community and a part of the club. It was my way to contribute. Sadly, I was the only one who really cared. It is beginning to look like I may still be the only one who cares and that makes me sad.

That is all. Disperse.

One more day in the life

When I get up in the morning, after the usual round of answering Nature's call and waking up and getting something to eat, I sit down at my laptop and go through my email, deleting most of what's there (spam), but my favorite thing, after playing my morning word game, is answering email from friends, family and friends-to-be. It's the first highlight of my day. Yesterday, I received an invitation to move to Sri Lanka and I can't say I wasn't tempted. I'm still tempted. I'd be that much closer to India and have a chance to live and get to know the customs and society of a whole different world, one that I know only from news stories, movies and books. Who knows? I may one day decide to retire in Sri Lanka.

It's not my first invitation to move to India or nearby, but it is certainly the latest. The last invitation came from a publishing company that wanted me to write books to be translated into Sanskrit and Sinhala. I'd be famous. My stories would be made into movies and I could live a life of ease and comfort and wealth, but I'm not a big fan of the heat and I would miss the change of seasons that I love so much here. Still, maybe one day...

This morning I received a message from a Capricorn, a sort of Jack and the Beanstalk kind of guy who tools around the countryside in Missouri in his company truck. The combination of astrologer, world traveler with military experience and a teaching degree who once taught English is fascinating, a little like catnip in a way. He's one of my recent pen pals, and one who was certain I was looking for pen pals only in foreign countries. I didn't tell him it was too soon for him to judge my intentions, but I'm sure he will figure it out.

After a very long wait, I finally received my new knives yesterday, lovely, sharp, beautiful knives to go along with the cutting boards I had to replace. They weren't expensive, but they are necessary as my one paring knife is insufficient to the tasks it has been forced to perform the past two months.

Two months. I have been here two months and will pay the rent for my third month here today. The time has flown by, but everything is coming together quite nicely. I will have to finish getting everything in place since I have a birthday party to host at the end of the month for Nel. I still have to figure out what to serve that will suit everyone coming and how to fix a dessert that isn't too sweet for Nel and still satisfying for everyone else who will expect a sweet dessert of some sort. At least I have some time to figure it out and get the invitations ready.

In a couple of days I will also send up my very last issue of the ham club newsletter. No one so far has stepped up to take the job and I am afraid that the newsletter will end up consisting only of a president's message and the minutes of the board and club meetings. At least it will be very inexpensive to publish and will probably end up only on the web. But I can see what is happening. The members and board have decided that if no one steps up to the plate I will have to stay on until someone is found. I can't say I haven't thought about sticking around, but I'm not going to do it. I may not do it. Yeah, I'm considering it, but not seriously. I need a break. Maybe that's what I'll do, take a break for a few months and then pick it back up again. Then again...maybe not. I don't want to spend the rest of my natural life doing this newsletter.

The city workers started early this morning but the one workman who sings either isn't here today or even he doesn't feel like singing. They've moved a little farther down the alley so the noise and vibrations that nearly shook the cottage off its foundation yesterday are lessened but the dust they're kicking up sifts through the screens and coats everything with a fine gritty layer. At this rate, they may finish soon and will be out of sight and sound and mind. I certainly hope so. As much as I dislike typing operative reports for doctors unwilling to learn to speak English properly or without things in their mouth or even at a rate that is clearly and understandable to an ear other than a canine's, at least it keeps the cottage roof over my head and allows me to be inside almost protected from the dust and heat and cacophony of sewer repair, and that's something.

That is all. Disperse.

A little science and wonder

This is my latest editorial for the ham club newsletter, Ø-Beat (zero beat for non-hams):

Ever since I was a child, rainbows have fascinated me. I was awed by the arcing bridge of colors floating up in the sky like a promise of adventure, but I had no idea that not all those varicolored bridges are rainbows. Some of them are circumzenithal arcs (CZA). Now, say that three times fast. They’re also called ice halos and can be best seen when the sun is low on the horizon. It looks like an upside-down rainbow with the center of the bow like a cup beneath the sun and the red arc always on the outside.

In science class, I learned that the prismatic effect of sunlight through raindrops is what creates rainbows. In my recent searched through the Internet I discovered that sunlight reflected through ice crystals floating through high clouds produces just the right conditions for CZAs. With all the snow we’ve been getting lately I wonder that I haven’t seen a CZA yet, but maybe I’m not looking at the sky at the right time. But the magic and color show doesn’t stop with CZAs. There’s more.


Ever hear of sundogs? I didn’t until I stumbled across a picture of the Mongolian CZA. Sundogs are those bright circular spots, solar halos, that looks like miniature suns but are a sort of mirror effect from the same icy cirrus or cirrostratus clouds drifting through the cold gray sky. In my opinion, it’s just one more reason to love winter – besides the cold.

And then there are circular rainbows, that most elusive and rarest of sights. Several years ago as I came out of Radio Shack, I saw a circular rainbow hovering in the rainy gray sky. It was a perfect halo of light and color and I couldn’t stop staring. I stopped people on the sidewalk and pointed to the sky like Chicken Little, except I wasn’t trying to convince anyone the sky was falling. People moved away from me like I was a lunatic, but I kept my eyes on that rainbow even after I got into my car to drive back to work, following that rainbow all the way across the west side of Columbus, Ohio. I pulled into the parking lot at work and shared my news to the whole office. Most of my co-workers shook their heads and went back to work. The rest followed me outside to see . . . nothing. The rain gathered strength and pelted us with icy drops and I stood there alone looking up into the sky, hoping for a glimpse of that circle of brilliant color.

The physics of how and why rainbows exist doesn’t lessen the magic for me, rather I appreciate rainbows more and now I know when and where to look for circular rainbows, circumzenithal arcs and sundogs. I know what the combination of weather and the sun can do, as not only a feast for the eyes and the soul, but also how it affects propagation and radio waves and our ability to reach out across town or across the world and hear voices.

The sun has gone through some changes since last month, putting on a bit of a show. The Solar and Heliospheric Observatory (SOHO) reported, “…a solar prominence gracefully [rising] up above the surface[. It] spun around a little, formed an arc, and eventually dissipated along magnetic field lines over a two-day period (March 22-23, 2008). Powerful magnetic forces that emerge from below the Sun's surface generate these prominences. The charged plasma spins along these magnetic lines, revealing them in extreme UV light. Sometimes these prominences erupt and break away from the Sun - this one seem[ed] to elongate and disappear.”


According to K7RA, the combination of a nearly two-week run of sunspots and the spring season make for very good HF conditions. Sunspot activity peaked March 26-29 and has dropped back to zero, but don’t despair. We have had a slow start, but sunspot activity is following the predicted pattern and will increase to a phenomenal high in 2011. You don’t have to wait that long to benefit from the sun’s effect on our skies. There are always sundogs, circumzenithal arcs and circular rainbows. Check out the web version of the Ø-Beat and feast your eyes.

And there is more news on the spring horizon, and I don’t mean the fact that if you look outside spring is getting ready to bust out all around us.

If you haven’t been checking the PPRAA reflector, you may have missed the news of recent changes. Jim Harris ABØUK has retired from the scene and all club activities and Ken Sheehan KGØADV has stepped down as Vice President, both due to health concerns. Jim received the PPRAA Lifetime Achievement Award last year for all his hard work and for his exceptional volunteer contributions over the years, setting an example for those who will follow him and try to fill his shoes. Ken distinguished himself early as an avid proponent of the PPRAA, urging members to get involved. Jim and Ken’s input leave a void.

One thing you won’t see on the reflector is the news that on April 23rd Jess Miley KØTAA, a long time fixture in the Colorado Springs amateur radio community as a technician and business owner, celebrates his 80th birthday.

The last bit of news is my own. After 2-1/2 years of editing this newsletter, I have decided to step down and let someone else run the show. I had originally intended to stick around until the end of the year but my schedule is filling up with personal appearances, readings and interviews for two of the eight books coming out this year that include my stories. The first two, Cup of Comfort for Single Mothers and Chicken Soup for the Adopted Soul, are already available online and in the bookstores. The books are collections of stories from more than fifty other writers, like me, who share a little piece of their lives and experiences. I have agreed to pop in every occasionally with a column, so I will be gone but hopefully not completely forgotten.

During my time as editor, I have made some changes to the newsletter, and hopefully to the way you think of and feel about the PPRAA. I have hounded, begged, cajoled and blackmailed some of you to get articles to fill these pages. If you doubt me, talk to Shel Radin KFØUR or Steve Williams KØSRW about how tenacious I can be in pursuit of content to fill the newsletter. Of course, as editor, I couldn’t just accept their words without adding a bit of spit and polish to make them shine. Admittedly, I didn’t have to use a lot of spot or polish, but I did feel I needed to earn the title of editor by actually editing.

My last column as editor (I can hear the celebrations and corks popping already) will appear in the July issue of this newsletter. By then I look forward to meeting the new editor and offering him my assistance to make the transition easier. Whoever the editor is, I do hope you will give him the same attention and assistance you have given me over the past 2+ years.

Being editor of this newsletter has been an experience I won't soon forget. It has given me a chance to display my ignorance of electronics with a smile and to get to know some of you better. I will continue as a member of the PPRAA and the VE team, but will watch quietly (most of the time) from the sidelines while the rest of you take up the torch and keep it burning while you run with it. Without you, nothing continues and I would hate to see the Ø-Beat go the way of the Mountain Amateur Radio Club’s newsletter and be consigned to oblivion. Editing the newsletter takes a considerable amount of time and effort, but it is worth it because this newsletter, and all the amateur radio club newsletters like it, keeps us connected and reminds us that things are not so different anywhere else in the country, or in the world. We are all licensed amateur radio operators who work hard when it’s needed, volunteer when we can and keep people communicating in times of trouble and disaster. We are the silent minority who, out of curiosity and a love of science and adventure, stride out into the world and push the boundaries of technology, and I am proud to be one of you.

73 as always…
Jackie Cornwell ACØCA
Editor
PPRAA Ø-Beat

And then came the rains...

After two years of slogging uphill alone, people are finally starting to catch on and send in articles and requests to write columns for the local ham club newsletter. I have beaten the bushes for two years and managed to buttonhole only a few people and now the flood gates are opening. I have two new columns in the December issue and a new format for the web version that has been applauded as innovative. I don't know why they're surprised since I mentioned changing things months ago. All I needed were the articles and features that would work well on the web and I finally found them. Editing a club newsletter is nothing like editing a magazine and dealing with professionals who at least know how things work. It looks like my article about free lunches and keeping the lights on had an impact on people and they realize how close they came to having to find someone else to edit their newsletter. Sometimes it takes a wake-up call and a blast of cold water in the face when asleep to make people realize what they could lose.

The up side of all this is that I've managed to dissuade the club members from buying my Xmas dinner at the annual party or giving me a plaque or award. I think they finally understand I don't want recognition but input because that tells me they want to be involved. It's so easy sometimes to sit back and let someone else do the job, especially when the job they're doing is so good no one feels like they have anything to contribute, but if there is one thing I think I have proven it's that everyone has a story to tell and that the story can be interesting and enlightening. The readers have seen how something they thought was insignificant can be made significant and give people something to think and talk about. If this trend continues, I won't have to write too many more editorials and can stick to interviews, profiles and articles.

Out of all this hassle came a couple opportunities to break into completely new markets. A staff writer on the Wall Street Journal suggested I send my work to him to give to his editor to be published. He said I am a very good writer with a flair for profiles. Not too shabby considering it was his article that got me asking questions of one of his profile subjects and getting a different take on the story, but my focus was ham radio and Morse code and his was only peripherally so. He told me he was impressed. Not too shabby.

I also offered a longer version of the article, with pictures, to QST which is the ARRL's magazine and I'll get paid for that, too. One of the things I love most about writing is how accessible some stories can be if you change the slant just a little. I've gotten quite a bit of mileage out of an idea when I turned it around just a little bit or took some information and dug around in a different direction.

I thought about sending some of my articles to QST but ruled it out because I didn't have the time, but I found out it didn't take that much time. So, I'm going to profile a few more interesting people, like the guy who backpacks with his goats when he takes his radios into the field, and the mini-keyer that went to St. Peter's Island on a DXpedition (that's long distance radio expedition for the uninitiated). I have found yet another avenue to market my work and expand my base audience doing what I do best -- writing about people. And that's just one of the things I am so grateful for having, not just at Thanksgiving, but every day.

In many ways, it's like a crab venturing out of a cramped shell in search of a bigger, roomier shell and finding it no longer needs the shell at all and has evolved past the need of confined quarters.

That is all. Disperse.