Solid Rock Radio was the first pirate I heard on my brand new Drake R-8 one Sunday morning. This was in the days when receivers still weighed enough to give you a heart attack when you lugged them up two flights of stairs to the radio room. The day's of daring he-man dx'ers, who climbed up on steep roofs to erect masts and antennas, weaving the wire and coax through tree branches and over power lines and into place, to be rewarded by climbing down off that roof, grounding the whole thing to a steel bbq skewer , and ascending the stairs, hooking the coax up and pressing the power button and turning that can of soup sized tuning knob with no fear knowing you'd done everything right. Penguins be damned, as a great man told me.
SDR's are for sissies.