In a group discussion today, I was asked to tell something about myself that no one else knew. I had to think for a few minutes because I’m basically an open book. There’s not much left to reveal unless we start talking about my snack habits. After a minute or two, I finally said, “HAM radio.”

Instantly, I was rewarded with the same looks people give when you say words like “cryptocurrency” or “CrossFit.” Blank. Confused. Slight concern. Not surprisingly, several people in the room had no idea what HAM radio was, which was perfect because it gave me a chance to climb onto my invisible soapbox and explain.

For those who are unfamiliar, amateur radio operators utilize radios and antennas to communicate with individuals locally, across the country, and occasionally around the world—without relying on cell towers, Wi-Fi, or satellites. Just radios, airwaves, and a little bit of nerdy wizardry. You can talk to someone down the street, or someone on the other side of the planet, assuming the atmosphere is in a good mood that day.

Some people collect stamps. Some people golf. Some people run marathons. Apparently, I sit in my house and talk to strangers through invisible waves in the sky. We all need hobbies.

What originally pulled me into HAM radio was the emergency side of it. When storms hit, and the power goes out, phones stop working, and the internet disappears, amateur radio is often still standing. Hams pass emergency traffic, help with search and rescue, and provide communication when nothing else will. It’s fun and practical. Like a Swiss Army knife… that talks.

And honestly, with the Verizon cell phone outage the other day, it kind of proved that point. We like to think our phones are indestructible… right up until we’re standing in the kitchen holding a useless glowing rectangle, whispering, “Why have you forsaken me?” That’s when old-school radio suddenly doesn’t seem so old.

I also told them about something I do pretty much daily called Parks on the Air. It’s an activity where people with portable HAM radio stations go out to qualified parks and try to “activate” the park by making contacts with “hunters” like me.

Let me be clear: they pack up radios, antennas, batteries, tables, chairs, snacks, and probably a small generator. They drive to a park, hike to a spot, and set up in the elements.

I sit in the comfort of my home, coffee in hand, climate control working beautifully, talking to them while they’re sitting in weather conditions not suitable for man, beast, or common sense. They’re battling wind, heat, cold, bugs, and curious squirrels. I’m battling whether my coffee needs more cream. It’s a dangerous hobby, but I manage.

Of course, there’s also something kind of amazing about bouncing your voice off the atmosphere and having it land in someone else’s living room hundreds or thousands of miles away. No apps. No passwords. No updates. No, “your call cannot be completed as dialed.” Just you, a radio, and a whole lot of invisible stuff you barely passed in science class.

As I was explaining all this, I realized how funny it is that in an age of FaceTime, group texts, and social media, the most surprising thing about me involves equipment that looks like it should be mounted in a WWII submarine. But honestly, that’s part of the charm. Something is refreshing about a form of communication that doesn’t require a monthly bill, a software update, or your first pet’s name.

If I sparked your interest and you want to learn more about HAM radio, I’d genuinely love to talk to you about it and try to answer any questions you may have. Fair warning: this offer may come with diagrams.

So yes… apparently I’m a closet radio nerd. And I’m okay with that.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go see if anyone in Antarctica wants to hear about the weather in my backyard.