Let's be frank.
No matter how far back your personal radio history goes, your gut tells you much of our hobby's so-called "Fine Business" is really a whole lot of Monkey Business.
Some time ago some wit at the FCC defined ham radio as, ah-hem, a service, and goodness knows on balance it's done a world of good, not just serving the public interest, but moreover keeping the likes of you-know-who off the streets.
Present company excepted, of course.
Not excepting, of course that dog-faced ham above, by the name of Dash!, AKA Dashiell Hammutt, my imaginary radio playmate since I collected dead TV tubes from the repairman.
Yeah, we've been around since Hector was a pup.
Ham radio cartoons with Homeric references?
Obviously, we have a double comedy death wish. Bad enough we draw hobby radio-centric cartoons. Worse, we double-down and target Thinking Hams - those with a taste for the often opaque, abstruse, antique and sometimes downright je ne sais Huh?
Like you know, Funnies and Fun.
Trust us, Dash! and I can be jejune as all get-out.
We love sneeze-milk-out-your-nose humor. Sure, our act might feather-in some fancy pants patter, but trust us, we're the type of hams who play with their mac & cheese at their club's annual holiday banquet, and kvetch like 75 Phone Tar Pit Trolls when we don't win a door prize, grousing it's an inside job after a prodigal portion of egg nog.
Sans eyes, sans teeth, sans hair, sans the latest digital kilowatt that glows blue and spits cryptocurrency. Sure, we've been around long enough to know better and make all the life mistakes that leave us with the retirement radios we deserve.
Did we say you ham kids are all right?
By gee, it was only fifty years ago we were you, sitting in the back of our local club meeting, hooting and jeering along with the cool old drunks who talked back to the pompous suits standing up front.
Well, we wouldn't presume to pose as cool old drunks, nor would we patronize you with how we identify with you young lions. No, we answer to a higher ham radio cartoon aesthetic.
That said, we do dig your ham youth wiggy groove, and in like total solidarity, we offer you an epically-transformative download-ready Old Man Mask that you can wear to any ham club meeting and stealthily pass for total Jurassic Era.
If we haven't emptied the room at this point, we know you precious few left are, bombs away, our target audience.
Welcome you few.
Welcome you proud but self-hating just enough to keep it real.
you forever-young rascals surfing the cusp between aetheric electromagnetics and all-natural human intelligence.
Thinking Hams, welcome home.