Friday, 6/28

Several things today, starting with this observation--

HOW THE HECK IS 2019 HALF OVER ALREADY???

As a question, it’s more rhetorical than most, but didn’t 2019 just start, like, last week? At least that’s how it seems. It just feels like it was just a week or so ago I woke up on a cold Tuesday morning, shook my head as I saw the detritus of leftover New year's Eve celebrations spread all around my neighborhood, and then went back to bed. Now after Sunday the year’s halfway gone, and what do we have to show for it? 121 blogs and lots of cold weather, at least by my account.

Geez...time really does fly, doesn’t it? I’ll have to remember that when I’m writing, in what’ll seem like a week or so, a blog about how 2019’s now over and wondering where it all went.

Geez.

*****

Today's a semi-big day in the Koski household, as the Bundesliga schedule for 2019-2020 comes out! I realize that's not a big deal for any sane person, but we're looking forward to it to see who RB Leipzig plays and on what weekend they play them. Why? Well, you never know if we might want to go back over there and see another game, like we did a few months ago.

It's just a thought right now. Just a concept. But the schedule should help decide whether it stays a thought and a concept or moves on to something else. We'll see.

*****

Finally, good news and bad news about the Mining Journal article I wrote for my “And Put Up A Parking Lot” tour. The good news is it's finished and turned in two days before it was due, a fact that would've shocked Procrastinator Jim back in college. The bad news?

It's scheduled to run next Thursday. You know—July 4^th. A day when no one reads a newspaper.

So if it happens to get re-purposed in here between the 4^th and the walk on the 10^th, you'll know why. I just want someone—anyone--to see it and read it.

8-)

On that note, have yourself a great weekend. And enjoy what's left of June and the first half of 2019!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/27

It's amazing how one word can brighten your day.

I had a great time yesterday on my half day, thanks for asking. I mean, it's been a very long, very cold spring, and we deserve the warmth of the past few days. Now, you'd think just the fact that I went to the beach would be enough to put a smile on my face (and trust me, it was), but when I was down there yesterday and saw a particular word written on the sidewalk; well, that smile grows by a couple of teeth.

If only because that word was, indeed, "smile".

You see, someone had written the word "smile" and drawn a smiley face next to it on the bike path right near the McCarty's Cove lilac trees. I first saw it Monday, on mile 3 of a 4-mile run, and let me tell you--coming across that word when you're huffing and puffing actually DOES put a smile on your face, and gives you an extra boost to finish that last mile (especially when you're a masochist and you know that last mile ends with you running up the Front Street hill from Founder's Landing to the Landmark Inn.). Both Monday and than again yesterday, I saw that the word, and automatically, without even thinking, did what it said.

And I know I'm not the only one, either. I've heard several people walking ahead of or behind me comment on that one word written on the bike path. I'm sure they have the same reaction I have, and, like me, probably have it without even thinking. Such is, I guess, the power of one word.

Such is the power of THAT word.

So to whoever wrote that one word on the bike path, just let me say "thanks". You'd be amazed to find out how many smiles you've put on faces of people you've never met. And with the way things are going on our world these days, to perform a feat like that is an amazing thing.

Heck—it might even put a, ahem, smile on your face.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps--speaking of putting a smile on your face, look what I saw when I came home from work last night!)

Wednesday, 6/26

Guess what I'm gonna do for the first time all year today? If you said, “Well, Jim, I'm guessing you'll be taking a half day and going to the beach”, you're right.

And you've probably been reading these since the age of the dinosaurs, too.

For those of you who don't know, I take the vast majority of my non-Europe vacation days during the summer, on days when the sun is out and the temperatures are warm. I spend a couple of hours just doing whatever I want outside, then go back to work and do what I need to do. Since it takes a lot of effort to take a whole day off, this way makes a lot more sense, and it's a system that I've honed over the past decade and a half.

I'm really looking forward to it, too. I think this might be the latest in the year that I've taken my first half day. Of course, with the weather we've had so far this year I'm not surprised. I just know I've REALLY been looking forward to walking on a warm beach and soaking up the sun, and it's something I get to do a short while after I post this.

Woo hoo!!

However, before I actually do that I suppose I should fulfill my promise from yesterday. You remember this picture, right?

I posted it when talking about the “And Put Up A Parking Lot” tour I'm doing for the History Center two weeks from today, and I wondered if you knew what the building was and where it was located. Since I told you I'd give you the answer today, and since I try really hard to be a person of my word, here 'tis--

That's the original First Baptist Church of Marquette, a beautiful sandstone structure that burned to the ground in the early 1960s. They rebuilt after the fire at their current location near NMU, and now their original home—on the southeast corner of Front & Ridge—is the parking lot of the Landmark Inn.

More stories like that two weeks from today.

Okay...I did what I said I would. Now I'm going to the beach!!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 6/25

I think I'll stretch the envelope one way, if not the other.

Two weeks from tomorrow I have the first Jim Koski ™ walking tour of the summer for the Marquette Regional History Center. This one's called “...And Put Up A Parking Lot”, and I've been doing all kinds of research for it, including writing a Mining Journal article that'll show up in the newspaper next week. In putting it together I've think I'll be able to try one thing new this time around.

But not the two I was hoping for.

If you've ever been on one of these walking tours you know it's me and 200 of my closet friends, wandering around Marquette and looking at things. I always try to put what I'm talking about in context, which means that I always like to show pictures, either of what I'm talking about or what used to be there. However, when you're on a downtown street with 200 of your closest friends, sometimes not everyone has the chance to look at the pictures.

And that's a bummer, especially on a tour where I'm talking about the buildings that used to sit in the parking lots where we'll be standing. And since I've come up with a few rare pictures of buildings that turned into parking lots, like this one--

(By the way, you know what that building is, and which parking lot now occupies the land? I'll gave you until tomorrow to figure it out. I'll write about it a little then.)

I want to make sure everyone has the chance to see them. So for this tour, I'm gonna be trying out a high-tech version of allowing people to see the pictures. I'll be putting them on a website, and then anyone on the tour who wants to use their phone or tablet can access the site, and see the picture I'm discussing. I'll still be showing the pictures by hand like I usually, do, but I also figured this might be an interesting way for more people to see the pictures, especially right as I'm discussing them.

We'll have to see how it turns out. I'm hoping it turns out well, at at least enables a few more people to see the pictures. We'll see.

The other new thing I was thinking of trying? Well, there always seems to be a group of people who can't make a tour because of schedule conflicts, and another group that can't make it because they're not in Marquette. So I was toying with the idea of doing the tour on Facebook Live; while the tour is actually going on, I'd have someone hold up a phone and stream the entire thing out on the History Center's Facebook page. People could then watch it at their leisure. I couldn't quite set that up for this tour, but maybe we'll try it again sometime in the future.

After all, I do have that walking tour of South Marquette coming up in August.

First things first, though. We'll have to see how picture website works out for “Parking Lot”, and if it does work like I hope, then I'll have another way to information out while acting in my role as the Pied Piper of downtown Marquette.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/24

Say hello to my little friend--

For those of you who don't know who that is (and I'm guessing that's almost every single one of you), that is Hong Kong Phooey. Who, you ask? Well, I answer, he was a cartoon legend when I was growing up. Well, okay, maybe “legend” is a little too florid. He was a cartoon god.

Well, Hong Kong Phooey was a god if you take the word “god” to mean a character from a cartoon that was only on for two years and even then only appealed to the geekiest of kids.

Not that anyone, say, writing this would be considered a geek. Nope. No way.

Now, I’ll admit “HKP” is probably not the first cartoon from our youth that most of us would recall, but for a small and certifiably, uhm, intelligent group, the “number one super guy” was the best reason to get up on a Saturday morning. HKP was actually Penrod Pooch, mild-mannered police janitor, who would slip into a file cabinet, change into a kung fu robe, and go out to fight crime whenever the need arose. Of course, he actually sucked at it, and kind of stumbled into solving the mysteries, but that was one of the charms of the show, and maybe why those of us who liked it REALLY liked it.

Unfortunately “Hong Kong Phooey” was never marketed the way some classic cartoons have been. I think I the doll pictured above may have the only toy ever made of a character from the show, which resides in my bedroom closet at home. I was so excited when I found it in a store a few years ago that I thought I was gonna cry. Loraine just looked at me and shook her head in bemusement.

In case you didn't know, she does that a lot.

Like so many things from our youth, I watched an episode of the show a few years ago and was, well, underwhelmed. The animation was very bad, and the story itself kinda creaky, but I still did find a great deal of joy in hearing the late, great Scatman Crothers voice the title character. And while I don’t know that I’d watch the 17 episodes of the show over and over and over (like I did as a kid, and like I still do with “Rocky & Bullwinkle”) I did indeed purchase the dvd of the show, just to have it.

One of these days, in fact, I might even watch it!

Finally, if you're wondering why I'm writing this, last week for some bizarre reason it came up in conversation with Jen. I don't know how, I don't know why; I just know it did, so I had to dig the doll up and bring it in. And then that made me think—you know how some people have skeletons in their closet?

I have dolls of Hong Kong Phooey. I think I like my way just a little better.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/21

It looks like our long, national nightmare may finally be coming to an end.

That's a picture I took at 845 this morning of the street construction outside of our apartment. As you may be able to tell the curbs are set, the sidewalls are being poured, and after the pavement has been laid hopefully (he says keeping his fingers crossed) we'll be able to leave Loraine's car sit in the driveway all week like normal people, and not have to store it in my parents' garage.

(And on that side note...thanks Mom & Dad. We really appreciate it!)

Because this is Michigan and because roads don't seem to like Michigan several of us in the neighborhood have been joking about starting a pool as to how long the new street will actually last before potholes form or before they have to dig it up to fix one of the water or sewer mains they just replaced. As with everything in life I'm trying to be optimistic about it, so I'm betting the street will last a whole year and a half. It'll hold up until December 2020 before repair work needs to be done on it.

Perhaps not surprisingly my guess is the farthest out in the future. THAT'S how good of a reputation Michigan has for its roads.

8-)

On an entirely different matter I have to send thanks out to listeners Shane and Audrey Marlow of Gwinn for their nice gift. Shane, noticing that my pal Mr. Sunflower makes weekly appearances on our station Facebook page, decided to give him his own portrait--

I know Mr. Sunflower appreciates it. And I sure do, too. So thanks guys!

Finally, happy first day of “summer”. Maybe it (summer) will actually show up one of these months. I mean, I'm not counting on it, but this year it'd be a nice bonus, wouldn't it? We'll just have to see about that. And on that note, have yourself a great first weekend of “summer”. Make sure you have your hat & mittens nearby, just in case!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/20

I don't know if it's the world most sustainable business model. But I'm not complaining.

After complaining yesterday about being called “old” I'm now going to admit something that may prove I am indeed partially fossilized—I still subscribe to a couple of magazines. Yup; I pay someone some money, and (usually) once a month printed pieces of paper, bound together, show up in my mailbox, where I can then peruse them at my leisure, even if there's no wi-fi or 4G available.

You know—like we old people did back in the 20^th century.

Well, a couple of months ago I received a notice—once again, by mail—that one of those magazines had violated federal law by illegally selling its subscriber list to third parties, and that, as one of those subscribers, I was entitled to financial compensation as part of a class action lawsuit. I filled out the card and mailed it back via that old company called the US Postal Service, wherein I promptly forgot about it. Or, I should say, forgot about until yesterday, when I received a check for 82 dollars and a handful of change, once again via that old company called the US Postal Service.

So there. I may look older than I sound, but at least I'm making money off of it!

The 82 bucks was a nice surprise; Loraine's already coming up with ideas for places for us to eat out, courtesy of the magazine's little transgression. But my first thought was about the business end of it. I received 82 bucks because they did something wrong. It's punishment; I just wish more corporations who jump over the wrong side of the ethical line were treated like that. However, the 82 bucks I received just about equals four years of the subscription price to the magazine. Just how serious was selling off the mailing lists? I realize magazines have several revenue streams, only one of which is subscriber fees, but to agree to pay such a settlement must mean that they did something really, really wrong.

Hopefully, they've learned their lesson. And hopefully, other companies that think about jumping over the wrong side of the ethical line take note of what I'm pretty such isn't a sustainable business model. I mean, I'm not counting on it, especially in today's “the bigger you are the less you have to worry about” world. But still...it's nice to see that at least someone gets more than a slap on the wrist for violating laws these days. Now, if we could just do the same to companies that do real damage by destroying the planet or turning half of its citizens into opioid junkies; well, then we'll have made real progress.

For now, we'll just have to hope that the magazine (to which I still subscribe, by the way) learned its lesson. We'll just have to hope that my privacy is not violated by someone else. And we'll just have to hope that Loraine has an inspired idea or two on how we can spent the $82 that showed up in the mail, just because, as we learned yesterday, I'm older than I sound, and have at least one habit to prove it.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/19

I think it was a compliment. If not, I now know what it's like to get sarcastically burned with a flame hotter than that of the sun.

And that's rather hot.

A listener came in to pick up a prize last week, and when I gave it to her she must have realized who I was. She didn't say any of the usual things people say when they realize who I am (“Hey, you're that guy on the radio” or “I listen to you every day”, or “I enjoy watching you on that TV show with those kids” or even, “I see you walking everywhere”). Nope; she said something I've never been told in all the years I've been doing this gig, and that's been an eternity.

What did she say? She said, and I quote, “Wow, you sound a lot younger than you look”.

Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch.

First of all, I'm trying to look at the comment in the most positive way possible. A lot of people, as they age, lose something from their voice. It might get a little deeper or growlier, or it might lose a bit of the enthusiastic edge of youth. So if this person thinks I still sound young, well, then yay for me.

That's a good thing.

However, just how old does she think I look? I mean, sure, I'm not a kid any more, and some days I seem to have more gray hair than brown hair on my head, but at least I still have SOME hair on my head. And because of genetics (thanks, Mom & Dad!!) and because I try to take care of myself, I don't (think I) look my age. In fact, most people, when guessing, are usually off by a decade or more when trying to figure out how old I am.

So the listener who made the comment either assumed that, because of my voice, I'm still a kid, or that I'm a really old fart who just covers it up really, really well.

Gulp. I'm certainly hoping it's the former.

Those of you who've been reading these things for years (you know, because I'm apparently old and have been writing them forever) may recall the Koski family phobia about aging. We don't like to think about getting old, we don't like acting old, and, because of those good genes to which I earlier referred, we can usually get away without appearing “old”. So maybe I'm being just a little too sensitive about this. That's happened before, after all. Maybe the listener really DID mean it as a compliment. Maybe she really did think I sound and act young on the radio, and that it was a bit of a shock to look behind the curtain. I certainly hope that was the case...

Because if it wasn't...well, then I'm old(er). And despite my protestations, my denials, and my vehement refusal to acknowledge the fact, she saw through the smokescreen and glimpsed the truth. So now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go sit by myself in a dark room, ponder this shocking turn of events, and sob quietly for a few minutes.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), who at least still sounds young!!

Tuesday, 6/18

And now, the rest of the story.

As you may recall, yesterday I promised the tale of what seems to be the most popular blog I've written in the past year or so. It was discovered while I was going through the stats of the service that hosts these babblings, and it's so out of left field that it simultaneously shocked me and made me wonder if the counter was off, or if the world's just really, really strange.

These days, after all, you never know.

What is the most read blog on this site the past year and change? Well, you remember the one I wrote last September about all the food I bring to work on a weekly basis? I actually didn't, but you know what? It's that one--

How? Why? In what dimensional plane would that be the most popular thing I've written in the past year-plus? I don't know how, nor do I know why, but it is. It's still getting hits on a daily basis; in the past 24 hours, in fact, it's been viewed almost three dozen times. I know the internet is a strange place.

I just didn't know it was THAT strange.

Now, there are several explanations as to why it's been the most popular thing I've written. I suppose that people actually COULD be enthralled with all the broccoli and yogurt I bring to work on a weekly basis. However, I'm gonna assume that's not the case. Heck, I'M not even enthralled with all the food I bring to work on a weekly basis, and I actually eat it.

So I don't think it's that. What else could it be? Well, it could be the spiders and the bots I was talking about yesterday. Remember how I keep getting views from strange, strange countries? Well, maybe, for some reason, they've become fixated on that particular page. Maybe they've somehow linked to it, or keep visiting it over and over again. That certainly makes a whole lot more sense than people who are fascinated with my weekly consumption of chocolate, doesn't it?

Of course, if that is the case, it throws into question the entire purpose of having counters on these things. If the number of people you think are reading them isn't correct, what good is having a counter? If half the visitors you get are internet programs from strange countries, then why even keep track? And when you hear from someone that they have a blog with 10,000 readers every day (not this one, obviously), how many of those are actual readers and how many of those are virtual creepy-crawlies that may have originated in a Russian military building?

You gotta wonder.

So anyway, if you've been reading these and have ever wondered what the most popular entry's been over the past year (and change), now you know. It's not anything deep, or thought-provoking, or nostalgic. It's what I eat at work on a weekly basis.

Go figure.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/17

Summer, where are ye?

Don't worry; I'm not gonna bore you whining about the weather. However, I did put the October-like temperatures (in June!!!!) of the weekend to good use, working on a bunch of stuff I've either been meaning to get to or need to get to. Some of that involved prepping a newspaper article for my upcoming “..And Put Up A Parking Lot” tour for the Marquette Regional History Center. Another involved working on and/or cleaning up a couple of blog sites with which I'm involved, including this one, and that's when I started thinking about a couple of things.

Now, as we all know, when I start to think, that can be a dangerous thing. Here's why. I've been writing these little...whatever you wanna call thems for 18 years now, since 2001. Over those 18 years, I wonder how many other countries we've touched? I know that when I write my trip blogs there's a little thing you can click on to tell you what countries readers are from (or, at least, in which countries the servers they're using to connect to you are located), but up until now I've never actually checked it for this little thing (or, at least, for the three years it's been hosted by Blogger).

So that's of the things I did this weekend.

Looking at the statistics for this site made me laugh, if only because of some of the, uhm, interesting places from which readers apparently come. The U.S., of course, popped up first, followed by the countries where we've gotten to know people over the years—France, or Belgium or Germany. But then it gets weird. Over the past year, India provided us a large chunk of readers, while there also seem to be hits from places like South Africa, the United Arab Emirates, Vietnam, and Russia. Quite a few from Russia.

How people from those countries stumbled across a stupid blog from a dork (or how their spiders or search engines robots did so), I do not know. But apparently it happens, and apparently it happens quite a bit.

So here's the deal—if you read this regularly, or have even just stumbled on it by accident, and you're from a country outside of the U.S., please let me know. My e-mail address is always at the end of each post, and don't worry—I won't mention you in any way. I know almost everyone who reads this does so as a “lurker”, and I'm cool with that. I don't want to “unlurk” you. But I'm curious, so let me know, and we'll see how many people in how many different countries actually read this, or how many countries just have spiders or bots prowling the web.

It'll be interesting. Maybe, perhaps, almost as interesting as the perplexing blog entry that seems to have been the most popular I've written in three years. That story tomorrow.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/14

Wanna know a deep, dark secret about me? I haven’t been to the beach once yet this year.

Shocking, isn’t it? I mean, here I am, someone who’s dream job would be as a beach bum, and I have yet to set one foot on a beach in 2019. I’ve been walking near a beach, and I’ve gazed lovingly upon a beach from a short distance away, but I haven’t yet been on an actual beach this year. Of course, seeing as how we've only had three beach days, as far as the weather goes this year, I'm not surprised.

But still.

Walking on a beach is one of the things to which I look forward every summer, and it’s one of the things I try to accomplish with a steady frequency. I don’t know about you, but there’s just something about walking along a beach, feeling the warm sand between your toes and listening to the water gently lapping up on the shore, that makes me relaxed, and gets rid of any cares I might have about the world. The calm that washes over me on a beach is amazing; While I have practiced meditation in the past, I've never received a more Zen-like feeling than the one I get by walking on a beach.

Like I mentioned, there have only been three beach days (or days above 75) this year so far. I was downstate for one, I was working for the second (and as surprised as everyone else when it actually occurred), and the third was this past Saturday, when it seems like every single person in Marquette headed to the closest beach. While walking past McCarty’s Cove on Saturday did a quick guess-timate, and if my math was correct (which is always a very iffy proposition) there were over 2,000 people there. Now, they were all enjoying themselves, and that’s great. I hope they had a fantastic time while they were there. But when I go to the beach, I like to go there early in the morning, before hordes of people show up, when I can zone out without dealing with crying kids, loud jet-skis, and the dogs that aren’t legally supposed to be on the beach in the first place. I usually accomplish this by going there on one of my legendary summer half-days, but you know what?

I haven’t taken one of my legendary summer half-days yet this year. Between the weekday weather not cooperating, my workload, and all my other commitments, I just haven’t had the chance yet.

I’m not worried; I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunities to do so as the summer wears on. At least, I'm hoping we'll have plenty of opportunities as summer wears on. All we need, now, is for summer to actually show up, and we'll be all set.

Odds on that, currently, are running about 50-50.

On that note, have yourself a great weekend. Sure, it won't be beach weather, but at least it won't be snowing out. Right?

Right?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/13

I don't know why, but to me those are the saddest headstones you see when walking through a cemetery.

As you know, Loraine and I spend a lot of time in Marquette's Park Cemetery, often just walking through it on a nice summer day and enjoying the beauty of nature all around us. Recently we've started gazing at headstones for one certain thing, a thing that the thought of makes me shake my head with a little bit of grief.

Here's an example--

Believe it or not, it's not the fact that a father and daughter apparently died in the same year that makes me sad. Nope; instead it's the fact that Alma lived another 56 years after her husband died and never remarried. She, from the looks of it, spent the last five and a half decades of her life alone.

That's what makes me sad.

This isn't the worst example we've seen, either. One of the guys Loraine's researching died in Normandy just after D-Day, just a few months after marrying a woman. His widow never remarried; she died in 2004 sixty years after her husband was killed in 1944. After being married just a few months she spent the rest of her life—six decades—alone.

That's just something I can't fathom. I mean, I understand the concept of having a soulmate, someone without whom you can't live. I get it. I'd like to think that I'm lucky enough to have someone like that. But to go fifty or sixty years without anyone else, to basically shut part of your life off because your soulmate is no longer around?

Maybe it's just me, but that just doesn't seem to be right.

Now I can understand how someone can go a few years without another partner; after all, you're still recovering from a sudden loss, and wondering if your heart can ever open that much again. But I'd like to think that everyone has it in them, once they've begun to heal, to find someone else. That person may not be your first soulmate, but who's to say they can't be your second? Life, at least to me, seems to be better when you have someone with whom to share it. And to shut yourself off to that after just a few months or a few years, just because your partner is no longer around...

I dunno. Maybe I'm weird that way. But it just seems sad to me.

I've made Loraine jokingly promise that if I get gunned down in a mass shooting she'll find someone else. I'm not planning on getting gunned down in a mass shooting (although these days you never know), but the thought of anyone—especially someone I love—being alone for decades is just too sad of a thought to bear. And it's something that happens more often than you'd think, at least if you notice certain headstones when walking through the cemetery.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/12

Because I know the next few days will be cold & rainy, more October-like than June-like, I snuck out of work for a few minutes yesterday to take a few pictures of sunshine and color. Hopefully, it'll get you through the gloom & doom of the foreseeable future.

And, you know, if I had to sneak out of an overly air conditioned office and go out into the sunshine to take these pictures...well, then, that was a sacrifice I had to make. I'll do anything for you guys, no matter how difficult is might be.

8-)

So without further ado, here's something to (hopefully) stave off your off-season Seasonal Affliction Disorder, in red--

Pink--

More red

More pink--

A little white--

A little purple--

And despite the fact I said I wouldn't mention them again, a little (ahem) lilac--

I think the browns and grays of the road construction just sets them off so well, don't you? And, because it doesn't travel at all in written form, that's sarcasm, by the way.

Hope that helps. Keep your fingers crossed that we'll have more summer than just this past weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 6/11

At least for now we're getting through it. That may change. But at least for now we're getting through it.

I've had several people ask how the street construction is going in front of our house--

And, well, it's going. The first week we got to deal with pavement being torn out and back-end loaders loading up back ends (or whatever they load) until 10 at night. Now, as I mentioned yesterday, we don't have any real water; instead, there's a hose hooked up to a fire hydrant, feeding our whole building of 5 different apartments containing nine different people.

But it'll be done soon, right?

Right?

It’s funny; whenever I hear someone complain about how street construction gets in the way of their drive to work or causes them to have to walk a block or two out of their way, I’ll always say something along the lines of “Well, it’s a sign that Marquette is a constantly growing and evolving community, always trying to make itself better and position itself for the future”. I either then get a glare or a slap (or both), but I always point out the good of road repair.

Now, of course, it’s right outside my front door. On any given day equipment will be moving around, pipes will be hauled hither and yon, and and I'll get glares from workers as I try to pick my way through the maze of tools & concrete they've placed on the very same sidewalk I need to traverse to get to work (or anywhere, for that matter). Still, I don't begrudge them much, even when they start digging at 7 in the morning.

That's maybe the one thing that's really bothersome about the whole affair.

Being an apartment dweller for lo these many years, I sleep with earplugs. They drown out most of the outside (and inside) noise, and allow you to get a good night’s rest. So I can just imagine what it's like at 7 on any given morning when some of my neighbors, many of whom probably don't sleep with earplugs, realize what's happening outside their doors. I mean, if I can hear the noise through earplugs, I can just imagine what it would sound like without ‘em.

Still, I s’pose we have to look at it the way I always look at it. The street reconstruction is a sign that Marquette is a constantly growing and evolving community, always trying to make itself better and position itself for the future. And that’s a good thing.

Even if you don't have water, have to traverse an obstacle course to get anywhere, and you don't need to set an alarm clock for the duration of the project.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/10

They're here! They're here! They're here!!!!!

And I will spare you any further mention of that particular subject, as I know you're nowhere near as obsessed with them as am I.

That's okay. You can thank me later.

8-)

Other than that, I enjoyed the first semi-summer weekend of the season as much as anyone could. While not both days were perfect (although Saturday came darned near close), I was still able to get out and enjoy every single second of it (at least, every single second when it wasn't raining and/or having temperatures fall 20 degrees in 2 hours). It's weird; I don't know about you, but I seem to have “summer” routine and a “winter” routine. The “summer” routine actually takes up a lot more time, mostly because I'm playing outside, but I always seem more refreshed on a Sunday night than I do after a weekend of “winter”, when I (occasionally) have time to lie around and do nothing.

There's just something about not being confined to an apartment, to be able to go do what I want when I want. It's kind of amazing. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

I also had a visitor at work Friday--

You remember Matt Sia, right? The young man who wrote and recorded the song “Marquette, Mi”? Well, he was back in Marquette for the weekend, and stopped to say “hey”, where we both marveled at how it's been 12 years since the song came out and both also marveled as to how we're STILL getting multiple requests for it each and every week.

It just shows the power of a heart-felt piece of art, I guess, especially one that just about everyone who's ever lived here can relate to.

Finally, I would like to thank everyone who took a few seconds to vote over the past week on which picture I should turn into the desktop picture on my notebook computer. Since I promised I wasn't going to write about a certain flower any more, I'll just show you the winner without comment--

By the way, have I mentioned that this is, thanks to my travels, the third straight month where I've been able to sniff lilacs? Have I?

8-)

Well, I should get going and jump in the shower.  The city will be turning off the water to everyone on our street in a few minutes, and I don't want to get caught in the middle of that with a head full of shampoo, do I?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/7

He died 75 years ago this Sunday.

Arthur W. Lemieux  was born in Marquette on April 20^th, 1920, to Arthur E. and Jessie Lemieux. He was the second of five children; his dad worked at and later owned the old Marquette Steam Laundry, which sat where the parking lot behind Donckers and the Delft is now located. He went to (but didn’t graduate from) Graveraet High School, and worked as, among other things, a taxi driver until World War II, when he joined the 82^nd Airborne. As part of the 505^th Parachute Infantry Regiment, he made the jump into France the night before the D-Day landings, helping to secure the town of Ste. Mere Eglise. Three days later, June 9^th, he was trying to cross a field near that town when he was shot & killed by a German machine gunner. He was temporarily buried in Ste. Mere Eglise, and his body was brought back to the U.S. in 1949, where he was laid to rest in Park Cemetery.

And that’s where his story ended, at least for the next half century.

Now flash forward to the summer of 2000. A young couple decides to spend a nice afternoon walking through Park Cemetery, and having seen “Saving Private Ryan” several times, the female half of the couple looks around to see if she can find the headstones of anyone who died in World War II. The first grave she finds is that of Arthur W. Lemieux. She does a little research into his story, which has been lying untold for 45 years, and that starts her on an epic project that, almost two decades later, is still an ongoing effort.

You can guess who the young couple was, right?

Arthur W. Lemieux will always have a soft spot in Loraine’s heart; after all, you don’t easily forget someone who changed your life like that. Because of him, she’s spent most of the past two decades researching not only his story but those of 243 other men & women from Marquette and Alger County who died during the conflict. And because of him, we’ve spent a lot of time in France, traipsing around dirt roads and farm fields, retracing the steps of his final days. Thanks to some very helpful people (especially his squad leader, the late and very knowledgeable Spencer Wurst), we know what happened to him on his final day. We know the squad left Ste. Mere Eglise with orders to take the Montebourg railway station. They walked past the village of Fresville, and down this dirt road--

Once down the road, they rounded a corner, came upon a stone quarry, and then attempted to cross this farm field--

What they didn’t know was that there was a German machine gun nest nearby with a perfect view of the field. Spencer Wurst tried to cross the field first, and was pinned down by gunfire. Lemieux and a Massachusetts native named Eli Potty tried to attack the machine gun nest, but died in the attempt.

And now you know his story. A story that, sadly, came to an end 75 years ago Sunday.

****

On that note, have yourself an amazing weekend, especially if turns out as warm as the forecast promises. I, personally, am looking forward to seeing what these do in the sun and the heat--

You'll see the results Monday. Trust me—you'll see the results Monday!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget you have the weekend left to vote on which picture I'll be putting on my notebook desktop for the foreseeable future. Scroll down to Tuesday's entry for the choices; the one currently in the lead may, in fact, have a little something to do with those blossoms I'm hoping to see this weekend).

Thursday, 6/6

75 years ago today the largest military invasion in American history began. It's been written about in books and magazines, dramatized in movies & TV shows, and has even inspired a series of trips to Europe by my lovely wife to research those men from Marquette County who died during or immediately following the landings in Normandy.

So today and tomorrow, I'm going to share two of those stories. Stories that began in Upper Michigan but ended a quarter of the way around the world, helping liberate a country from the grasp of tyranny. Today? The only person living in Marquette County to actually die on the beaches.

William Richards was born in Virginia, Minnesota, graduated from the Michigan College of Technology and Mining, and, in 1940, was working for Cleveland Cliffs at the same time he was a lieutenant in the 107^th National Guard Combat Engineering Battalion in Ishpeming. He had been married to a Negaunee girl--Mary Archibald--for two months, when the battalion was called up for a year of active duty. World War II then started, and that one year became “for the duration”.

The 107^th was shuttled around various camps in the U.S., and headed overseas in 1942, where Richards eventually attained the rank of Major. The invasion of Europe was on the horizon, and Richards’ battalion would be given one of the most dangerous of assignments--to clear the invasion beaches of mines, obstacles, and booby traps laid by the Nazis.

The 107^th was going in with the first wave of troops.

Now, if you’ve seen “Saving Private Ryan”, you get a pretty good idea of what the first wave had to face. That did not seem to daunt Richards and his engineers, especially when you read what was written about his actions in a Distinguished Service Cross citation he posthumously received--

“Major Richards landed with the initial assault waves under heavy enemy artillery, machine gun and rifle fire. He immediately effected the removal of barbed wire by directing the operations of a tank dozer, preceding it on foot under heavy small arms fire. After removing this obstacle, he personally reconnoitered inland to find the exact position of an enemy gun which was harassing troops and equipment at the entrance of one of the beach exits. After locating this gun, he made his way back to the beach and reported its location. He then proceeded to organize the units of his battalion for aggressive action against the enemy on the cliffs."

The hill Major Richards was attempting to take when he was killed.

The report continued, "Though wounded, Major Richards again proceeded to a beach exit to direct the efforts of the mine clearing and obstacle removing parties. While organizing these parties, he was killed by enemy fire. The courage and devotion to duty exhibited by Major Richards reflects great credit upon himself and is in keeping with the highest traditions of the armed forces.”

This is Major Richards’ final resting place, at the Normandy American Cemetery, on a bluff overlooking Omaha Beach, in St. Laurent sur Mer, France--

Aside from his wife in Ishpeming, Richards left a 2-year old daughter. He was the highest ranking individual from Marquette County to be killed during World War II.

Tomorrow, the story of Marquette paratrooper who made it through the first day of the invasion.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—on a wildly different note, don't forget to vote for which picture goes on my notebook desktop. Scroll down to Tuesday's entry for the pics and the process).

Wednesday, 6/5

If you think that you have any privacy these days, that any part of your personal life can't be bought or sold...

Then I have a tale for you.

I don't shop at Meijer at Marquette a lot; there's really no reason for that, other than the fact that I could find myself easily addicted to the cornbread in their bakery and it's probably better for my health and my waistline that I'm not a regular shopper there. It's a fine store and the people who work there are top-notch.

I'm just not a regular-regular customer.

But before we went to Germany in April we did stop there, where I picked up, among other things, protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai. I would normally pay cash for that mix, but because I had just gotten a replacement credit card and wanted to make sure the chip worked before we headed overseas, I used the card, and then promptly forgot about what I purchased.

Or, at least forgot about until I came home and checked the mail last night.

Among the things I found in the mail was a little package of coupons from Meijer, addressed to me. What did those coupons offer for sale? Well, how about protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, among other thing. Now, I'm not a Meijer mPerks member. When I bought the protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, I did not tell anyone at the store who I was. The store has no way of knowing I might like to once again buy protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, among other things, unless they noticed someone with my credit card number bought them, and then paid and/or traded with my credit card company to find out who owned said credit card number.

That seems to me to be the only way that Meijer would know that it was me who purchased the protein bars, dental floss, and green tea with blueberry and acai, among other things. And I don't know what I find more discomforting—the fact that Meijer can buy that information, or the fact that my credit card company would sell it. I mean, I'm as aware as anyone that we have no privacy these days, that information about us is bought and sold multiple times an hour. But to see such a...demonstrative example of this when I opened the mail last night was, well, a wake up call. Proof positive that all kinds of nefarious stuff happens whether we realize it or not.

And yet another rude welcome to life in the 21^st century as we know and live it.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget to vote for which picture should reside on the desktop of my notebook computer for the foreseeable future. Just scroll down to yesterday's post for the entries. I promise I won't use your personal data or compromise your privacy in any way whatsoever!)

Tuesday, 6/4

I'm pleasantly surprised that you guys even noticed I didn't do it.

Every year when I get back from Europe I usually have you guys pick out the picture I display on my work computer desktop for the next year. Over the years you've picked some amazing photos that I've been able to look at for 12 months, but this year I decided not to do it. Why, you ask? Well, I answer, for a couple of reasons. One, it's only been eight months since I put up the latest picture, and two, because I have a toy cow that matches it.

Seriously—for Christmas, my parents (jokingly) gave me a toy cow that looks almost exactly like the current desktop picture I have. Don't believe me?

And because of both those reasons, I didn't want to change my desktop picture after this trip.

However, because several of you e-mailed me and wondered if I was going to put pictures up to a vote, I tell you what. Here are six pictures. I have a notebook computer that I take to Europe to write blogs and the like, a computer that I also use throughout the year for other things where I need a small machine. The picture that you choose will go on that machine, and while I won't see it as often as I would every day at work, it'll still be gazed upon on occasion.

Sound cool? Good. I hoped you'd think so.

So without further ado, here are this year's six possibilities--

Tiergarten Park in Berlin--

Flowers at the market in Leipzig--

The very historic Augustusplatz in Leipzig, with the University of Leipzig in the background--

Loraine in her happy place, Red Bull Arena--

The Leipzig skyline, taken from Johannapark--

And two of my favorite things in the world—lilacs and an Ampelmann--

Feel free to pick which one you think should go on my notebook computer's desktop for the foreseeable future. Just e-mail me your choice by, say, Sunday night at 1159. That way, I can announce the winner in Monday's blog. Thanks for voting. And heck, thanks for wondering why I didn't do it this year in the first place!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/3

They still haven't popped. But I am getting hopeful.

The first few days of June have been just like most of May, so I can't say I'm totally surprised that the lilacs haven't fully bloomed in Marquette. Like I said, I'm hopeful. I don't know that I could think any other way. That's just too painful a thought to even bear.

So I'll just keep telling myself—one day soon. One day soon.

8-)

Speaking of this horrid spring we’ve had so far, I have this fact to pass along from one of my Weatherology friends. It seems like, out of 31 days in the just-completed month of May, only 3 of them—THREE OF THEM—had temperatures above average. Now I’m not a mathematician, and I don’t play one on TV, but I think I’m pretty safe in saying that that means there were TWENTY EIGHT days in May below average.

That’s, like, most of the month, isn’t it?

So here’s to hoping June shakes some sense into Mother Nature. Here’s to hoping the lilacs come out soon around here and then live a long and healthy life. If that happens, and if you happen to see me on my way somewhere, with my nose buried in purple flowers, take pity on me.

After all, we all have our crosses to bear, right?

Finally, I may have been a bit premature in mentioning Friday that something else hadn't yet started.  Look what I saw when I walked out the door this morning--

Yup.  It's gonna be a fun month.

(jim@wmqt.com)