Admittedly, I haven't. But family legend has it that my great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather Grok Chernos reported Alpha Centauri quite often on the workbench radio while he was painting his cave.

Saul wrote:

Admittedly, I haven't. But family legend has it that my great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather Grok Chernos reported Alpha Centauri quite often on the workbench radio while he was painting his cave.

I love how DXers have a marvellous sense of humour.

RadioActive wrote:

They have to in order to endure the endless fading out of a signal just before the station IDs itself. If I only had a loonie for every time it's happened to me over the years... 

Timely fade-outs happen more often than not. On that I kid you not.

DXers have to laugh because we have so much good material to work with.

The shortwave pirate WMFQ is one example. Stands for Where's My Fucking QSL? Inspired by a few DXers who routinely and rather rudely complain about mailing reception reports and not receiving QSL cards or letters (confirming the reception as legit).

Inspiration also comes from the handful of known DXers who have made up reception reports, looking for station QSLs, based on reports submitted to DX club bulletins by others. Wonder why a DXer in Italy has a card from a low-power 'graveyard' station in Arizona? Good question. The only thing truly identified in such cases was the identity of the "DXer" making the claim.

Once, when an Ontario station was signing off for good in a move from AM to FM more than a decade ago, I acted as QSL manager for the engineer. I received one report with a cassette tape that was completely blank on both sides. I actually listened. The report was from somebody on the west coast of the US who reported hearing it on a very rudimentary set-up. I knew who sent it and was not surprised. In this case, three guywires shy of a safe transmitting antenna install.

There was the Canadian DXer who claimed to have heard a very rarely if ever heard station from Latin America on a boombox.

Sometimes a few DXers will gather around the same DX table up in some godforsaken shack in coastal Newfoundland or northern Canada, and stuff just happens. Once, I heard a buy-and-sell program and called the station and was put on air. I had, of course, pre-alerted the other DXer present at the table that the station was coming in strong and they should tune it in immediately.

Once, with the audio left without headphones on an empty FM channel so everyone could hear meteor scatter bursts, up came a surprise low-power pirate originating from the same building.

Sometimes the humour is subtle and mild - for instance, I like to barbecue dinner from countries we want to hear. Jamaica is rare because there's few AM stations, thus jerk pork is served. Does it help propagation? Of course not. Does the cuisine rock? I hope so.

There's one station that reports every morning with excruciating detail the menu at the local community dinner in Wisconsin. Down to the tomato juice and side dish of pickles. At the very least, it gets talked about hundreds of miles away the next day.

The headphones come off for a minute and the tales take on a life of their own. Some are too 'inside' to make sense to outsiders; others translate well. Probably like in any kind of community setting. No doubt engineers, on-air talent, ad reps, broadcast execs, et al, all have their tribal laughs. I don't think I'd still be DXing if there wasn't a DXing community and a radio community, and all of the pleasantry that comes with that.