Wednesday, 5/31

Pardon my French, but where the heck has May gone?

I guess I haven’t been paying much attention to time recently, although given the packed schedule I’ve had so far this month I can’t say that I‘m surprised. That’s why, when I sat down to write this blog and typed out the words “Wednesday, 5/31”, my mind started to lock up the same way your computer does when your web browser tries to open 22 tabs all at the same time.

Trust me. It wasn’t pretty.

May is done. How the heck did that even happen? Memorial Day was, like, two days ago. Does it seem to you like Memorial Day was two days ago? It sure didn’t seem to me like Memorial Day was four days ago. Yet if you look at a calendar--and seeing as how calendars really don’t lie--Memorial Day was indeed, like, two days ago.

If things keep going the way they are, I’ll go to bed tonight, wake up tomorrow, and find that it’s Thanksgiving, or something. Yikes.

I know my busy schedule is partly to blame for May slipping away, and I know the weather (which I won’t complain about (much) here) is also to blame (if only because it hasn’t felt much like May until the past few days), but it just doesn’t seem physically possible that May is done. Something just seems...fundamentally wrong with that. Yet I know that time doesn’t not speed up. It doesn’t slow down. It just is. Time is one of the few constants in our life.

Even if our perception of it gets skewed from (pardon the almost unintentional pun) time to time.

I know that whining about the quick passage of time is about as effective as whining about the weather. No amount of whining will stop what I don’t like about it, and as you all know, I’ve certainly tried, at least as far as the weather is concerned. So I won’t be spending days or weeks or months decrying the fact that time is busily slipping by. If I only have a finite amount of time, and if my perception of that time is that it’s rapidly speeding by; well, you know what?

I can certainly use my time to do things OTHER than whining about the rapid passage of time. So I’ll stop bringing the topic up. Or, at the very least, I’ll stop bringing it up until “tomorrow”, when I go to write another blog, and find my mind has been blowing because I’m typing “Tuesday, 7/23”, or some other such date.

Sigh...

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 5/30

What a difference four weeks makes.

First of all, hope you had a great three day weekend. I now I did, getting to hang out with not only my family but Loraine's as well, all while enjoying “summer”. And that's what made me think about what we've been through this month.

Four weeks ago, May 2^nd, we were at the tail end of the series of storms with which we were gifted this Spring.

Now, a mere four weeks later, things look like this--

And like this--

I realize that weather in May, especially weather in May in the UP, can be weird, wacky, strange, downright unbelievable. But this year, 2023?

I think this sets a new bar for Mother Nature. And hopefully, it's a bar that she shan't be clearing any time soon. Keep your fingers crossed.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 5/26

I know for most people this is a three-day weekend to rest, relax, and play. And that's good; those are among the things I plan on doing myself. But also don't forget what Memorial Day is actually for, and that's honoring those who paid the ultimate price so you can rest, relax, and play.

People like George Kamecki.

George was born to Ignatius and Mary Kamecki of Marquette in 1923. He went to Bishop Baraga School, worked at the Delft Theater, and eventually ended up working at the Fisher Body plant in Flint. During World War II, he was drafted into the US Army, where he saw action in Germany before dying while trying to cross the Danube River near Regensberg, Germany in April, 1945, just days before the Germans surrendered to end the European Theater of the war.

George died two days after his 22^nd birthday.

George's story is much like those of the 240 + other residents of Marquette and Alger Counties who died during the war, but with two twists. The first is a sad twist. While George was one of Marquette's final casualties of World War II, his brother Aloysius was one of the first, having served on a ship sunk by Germany even before the U.S. had entered the war. So the Kamecki family suffered not one but two terrible blows during those years.

The second twist is a bit stranger, and a little more modern. As you know, Loraine's spent most of the past 20 years researching people like George. Every once in a while she gets an e-mail from someone asking a question, or offering information. About a year ago, she received one of those notes, from a person in Canada she had never met, who had come into possession of several letters found in a New York apartment by a firefighter. The letters? They'd been written by George Kamecki of Marquette to a woman in New York he met while stationed at a camp in Mississippi, and somehow this guy in Canada connected Loraine with the letters.

Small world, isn't it?

The letters (one of which is pictured above) are fascinating, and they really bring George to life. He apparently had both a flair for writing and a way with the ladies, two things that never come through when you're reading dry things like newspaper articles or Army reports. The letters show George to be just like every other young man in the U.S. in the middle of the 20^th century, a young man with a sense of humor, a healthy appetite, and dreams for the future.

Dreams that, tragically, were cut short on the banks of the Danube River in April of 1945.

So while you're out resting, relaxing, and taking it easy this weekend, spend a second and think of guys like George. After all, they never got the chance to do that very same thing themselves.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 5/25

Since our website has been down the past few days thanks to lingering effects of a traffic accident out in Harvey (showing, I guess, just how interconnected of a world we live in these days) and people haven't had the chance to visit us, I'm just going to leave this note--

Feel free to scroll down and catch up. Depending upon when you last checked in, there will either be two or three pieces you haven't yet read. And only (part of) one of them has to do with lilacs, so there you go.

8-)

Tomorrow, an appropriate story as we head into the Memorial Day weekend...

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 5/24

Well, the haze didn't go away.

As you may recall, I had hoped the Canadian fire haze that's been in the upper atmosphere the past few weeks would go away so I could have a totally sunny half day yesterday. Sadly, it didn't; in fact, it may have been stronger than usual. But that didn't stop me from enjoying the 80 degree temperatures and (very) hazy sunshine.

And that's a good thing, considering it'll be (gulp) 40 degrees cooler today.

Speaking of the haze, have you seen just how bad it is in Canada these days?

Photo courtesy of Accuweather

While I really don't enjoy the haze they're sending our way, I do feel bad for everyone in Alberta and Manitoba just trying to live through the fires. For both of our sakes, I hope the fires burn themselves out soon.

Speaking of pictures, one of the things I did yesterday was to take one of my own, just because that's what I do this time of the year--

They're so close you can (almost) smell them, and I'm hoping that once it gets warm again this weekend they may finally pop out again in their full glory.

And THAT will be a spectacular thing

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 5/23

Because it's supposed to be nice outside today, a perfect chance for me to play hooky from work for a few hours, I'm going to leave you with something from a few years ago.

It's still quite topical, though, something I noticed yesterday when not one, not two, but FOUR different people commented on the clothes I was wearing.

Who knew?

I'm off to hope that the Canadian fire haze goes away and doesn't make the promised sunny day a non-sunny day. Back with something new tomorrow!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

(as originally posted 5/23/17)

I keep forgetting there's a whole group of people out there who don't realize that I'm a slob.

As I've written in here before, in a perfect world my default wardrobe would be shorts and a T-shirt. It's a wardrobe choice that calms me, a wardrobe choice I think looks best on me, and a wardrobe choice I'm hoping to wear at least once this summer, although these days I'm having my doubts. If I could, I'd wear shorts and a T-shirt every day and be perfectly content.

But, unfortunately, I can't wear shorts and a T-shirt every day. Aside from the practical, weather-related considerations there are also lifestyle & job requirements that force me to dress up on occasion. In fact, if people only know the “TV Jim” part of who I am, they might think that I am, in fact, a snazzy dresser. And something yesterday proved that point.

Despite the fact that I would wear nothing but shorts and a T-shirt given the choice, I do dress up on occasion, even when work doesn't require it. In fact, yesterday was one of those days, when I was wearing a black shirt, black suit coat, and a neon pink tie. (Hey--if I DO dress up, at least it's with a little color!) Anyway, I had to run down the street for something, and a lady walking past caught my eye. She said “hello”, and then wanted to compliment me on how I always “look so nice”. I thanked her, and realizing that she obviously is most familiar with “TV Jim”, decided not to share my secret about how, deep down, I'm really a slob.

You guys know it, but we'll let some people maintain the illusion. After all, it works for Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, so who am I to argue?

I'm hoping the fact that deep down I'm really a slob wouldn't disappoint the people who think I dress well all the time. I mean, I would hate to shatter the illusion, but that's not just who I am. If I could, I'd wear shorts and a T-shirt when I was doing “High School Bowl” or “Ask the Lawyers”. But unfortunately, I can't. So what you see on TV is not always what you get. Maybe I'll have to start resurrecting that line from an old commercial and start saying something like “I'm not a sharp dresser, but I do play one on TV”.

I just hope people like the lady on the street would accept me for who I really am.

So if anyone's reading this who wasn't in on the secret, I hope you're okay with it. We all have our demons, we all have things we're trying to keep pushed deep down away from the light. Mine is this--

I'm Jim, and I'm a slob at heart.

8-)

Monday, 5/22

It was a hard choice to make, but I made it.

I've written in here a lot about writing; after all, as I've mentioned, I consider myself a writer above all else. And sometimes when you're a writer you have to make the hard and often topical choice. It was that kind of choice I had to make Friday when deciding what I'll be talking about on TV tonight. I had a choice between a topic that would tie into the one I did last week, or one that would be topical for this upcoming week. I, of course, had to figure it out by Friday afternoon, so they had a subject to promote over the weekend, so it's not like there was any pressure, or anything.

Oh wait, there was.

I realize most people wouldn't even think that this was a hard decision to make, and who knows. Maybe it WAS easy and my thought process just made it hard. All I know is that I had those two topics and an approaching deadline. I had to choose one, either the topic that would tie into last week or the topical one.

I went with the former.

There were several things that went into the agonizingly long process of my very strange brain figuring out what to do. Because I have a specific Memorial Day bit for next week, hanging on to the one that would tie into last week's spot wouldn't work. By the time I got to it no one would remember what I had said last Monday. Yet the other idea—tied specifically into the upcoming three-day weekend—wouldn't work any other time, either.

And I do realize that in the scheme of the entire universe, it was the weirdest thing over which to obsess. But obsess I did.

If you wanna take the long view, because I didn't do the topical one about heading into the three day Memorial Day weekend, I now have a topic for next year at this time (assuming, of course, they're still letting me do these next year at this time). Of course, by then, I may not think it a good idea or the world may have changed in ways that would render it moot.

I guess we'll get the answers to all those questions then.

So what exactly IS the topic I'll be addressing this week, the topic that caused so much stupidly bizarre writer's stress? You'll find out tonight.

I just hope it was all worth it.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 5/19

We're heading to a family reunion on Saturday for a family we’re not even part of.

We're going out to our friend Wanda’s house in Republic tomorrow, something we used to do on a regular basis but haven't since the scourge of Covid. We eat a lot of great food, show pictures of our latest excursion overseas, and visit with all of our friends out there. Seeing as how most of them are related, although we’re not, it’s like a family reunion.

A very nice family reunion.

This all came about because of, like many things in our life, Loraine. One of the first people she started researching for her huge World War II project was a young man from Republic named Elden Gjers. She found his family had donated a lot of his letters to the Republic Historical Society, and through those letters we were able to meet his extended family of surviving cousins, all of whom are among the nicest people on the face of the planet. Over the past decade and a half, we’ve been drawn into that extended family, to the point where Loraine’s now considered a relative (and I, as always, am also allowed in, thanks to my role as her chief photographer and geeky sidekick).

The “family” members often joke that thanks to Loraine they’ve reconnected, and have seen each other more in the past decade than they did in the decades previous. And I honestly think that’s thanks to things like our little annual jaunt out there. In years past Wanda would invite everyone over, including a few extra special guests, usually people we haven’t met yet but who soon get added to the “inner circle”. She cooks up all kinds of different soups & dishes, and everyone eats way more than they should while talking and smiling. Then we haul my laptop out, show a bunch of pictures and crack a bunch of jokes, and visit some more until everyone heads home happy.

Of course, this year may be a bit different, because it's the first time in four years that we've done it.  In that time, some of the people who would join us every year have died, while others have moved away. I have no idea how many people are left or who will show up. I guess we'll see.

Every year, too Wanda sends us home with food and with recipes, and for that, I couldn’t be happier. As everyone I’ve ever met out there always says, if you leave Republic hungry, you didn’t try hard enough. These little “reunions” at Wanda’s are certainly proof positive of that!

It’s funny how you can get drawn into families, especially ones with whom you share no DNA. When we first met them, we had no idea who they were, or what their history was. But now that we've had these little “reunions” over the years, we get to find out what the kids are up to, which people aren’t feeling well or have recovered from some medical problem, and all the other little things that make up the ongoing story of a family.

A family that we, apparently, are now part of.

That just one of the many things we're doing this weekend. Hope your weekend is just as fun!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 5/18

Most of the time I don't even remember I have a fake tooth.

Guess what I did ten years ago today? And if you immediately said to yourself, “Well, knowing you, Jim, probably something stupid”, you'd be absolutely right.

For those of you who haven't been reading these for years now, ten years ago today I had a little bike accident. I was riding on the west Marquette bike path behind Loraine, wasn't looking where I was going, and ran the front tire of my bike into the rear tire of hers. She didn't even know anything happened, while I hit the bike path face first, losing a front tooth, getting six stitches sewn around my right eye, tearing up my right hand (causing my fingers to swell up, which led to my first wedding ring getting cut off), and generally filling my shoulders and legs with cuts, the scar of one still sitting on my left knee.

Ah, that was a good time.

Like many things in life, it doesn't seem like it's been that long. It doesn't seem like it's been a decade, but it has. Thankfully, aside from the scar and a new wedding ring, I've made a full recovery from any injuries I had. I was actually quite lucky; I was able to resume working out a few days later (although the only thing I could do pain-free was to ride a bike, ironically), and all the external injuries healed shortly thereafter. In fact, every time I went to see the dentist after having my front tooth replaced, he had to look and see how well it turned out (because it turned out AMAZINGLY well. You can't even tell it's fake).

In all, though, it's not something I recommend anyone else try.

And it's led to a very weird reflexive action on my part. It hasn't affected my bike riding or anything, but it has changed the way I watch a certain sport on television. As you know, I love watching the Tour de France on TV each year, and as happens during professional bike races accidents occur. Sometimes, really bad accidents occur. And whenever they happen to show a crash I have to look away from the screen right away. I just can't watch it.

It's weird. I had no problem getting back on the (metaphorical) horse a few days after falling off, but whenever I see a bike accident on TV? I cringe a little. Go figure.

Anyway, that's the anniversary I'm celebrating today. Maybe I'll mark it by actually getting my bike out and riding it. After all, I still have 31 real teeth that haven't been damaged yet.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), crash-free since 2013!

Wednesday, 5/17

Because History Jim has to go do a presentation in a few minutes (at Norlite Nursing Center, as part of their National Nursing Home Week celebrations), I'm gonna leave you with something from five years ago.

Tomorrow—the story of how I did something incredibly stupid ten years ago, to the date.

Sigh. Sometimes, I amaze even myself. And usually not in a good way.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

(as originally posted May 18^th, 2018)

I have no idea how I woke up in London.

Don’t worry; I’m not in England at the moment. I didn’t flip out because the warm weather is now gone and all of a sudden felt the need to fly over 5,000 miles for absolutely no reason. Nope. . .I just had what may be the strangest dream in a life of some very strange ones. To wit--

The dream started fairly realistically, with me getting a phone call that something wasn’t going right at work. On occasion, I guess, my dreams become a little too literal, but that’s just part of the price I pay for being me. Anyway, in my dream, I start to head down to the station to see what’s going on, and I all of a sudden find myself on stage, singing with what I later find out is Argentina’s second most popular Steve Miller cover band (because I’m sure there’s more than one, right?) Anyway, after performing a rather wicked version of “Jet Airliner”, which is kinda funny because I can’t sing worth a darn, I get off-stage and go to my hotel room somewhere in the California desert. I can’t get the door unlocked, which doesn’t bother me too much because, as we all know, the desert can be quite warm during the day, and I like heat. However, when it starts to snow, I fiddle with the door lock a little more, finally getting into the room and going to sleep, only to be awoken by the sounds of Big Ben going off outside my window.

That’s when I woke up in London, and then my dream ended, allowing me once again to wake up, this time in Marquette.

The strange thing is this--those are the only parts of the dream I can actually remember. I have this nagging feeling that a few more things happened during this strange adventure, some of which involved other people and part of which, I do believe, involved some sort of. . .something underground that I wasn’t supposed to see, and I have a feeling that the “something” may have been responsible for my waking up in London. I don’t think, though, that it was responsible for my getting to Argentina in the first place.

I think I did that on my own.

And how did I end up in Argentina and in London? I’ve never been to South America, and while I’ve been in England a bunch of times, it was always just to spend a lovely four hours in the seething pit of humanity that’s known as the Heathrow International Airport waiting lounge. While I’d like to some day, I’ve never been into London, and I’ve certainly never visited Big Ben, although I’ve seen it in so many movies and TV shows that I feel like I know it. My subconscious apparently knows it, and knows it quite well!

Now, as far as I can tell, I didn’t eat anything out of the ordinary, read anything strange, or watch anything bizarre before doing to sleep last night. I had a “normal” day at work There was nothing freaky and/or bizarre about the time leading up to the dream, although as I write this, I’m starting to wonder if maybe that was itself the cause of the dream. I had a “normal” day, and since I don’t often seem to have “normal” days, maybe my psyche was making up for the fact that there wasn’t anything usual to challenge it while I was awake.

Maybe my subconscious was getting back at me for not giving it a new toy to play with that day.

No matter what, though, I’m glad I woke up in Marquette and not in London. Because while it would be nice to wake up one morning in London, especially after hitting the stage with Argentina’s number two Steve Miller cover band, I’m guessing the commute to work that day would be a killer.

And I don’t know if I’d want to go through that. I like walking three blocks instead of flying 5,000 miles.

Tuesday, 5/16

Even though it's changed many times, the habit is still going strong after all these decades.

I think I may have mentioned in here before about a habit of mine that started back in college, and that would be the habit of, every Sunday morning, grabbing a newspaper and a few snacks and reading the morning away. I realize it's a strange habit to start in college, of all places, but since when have you or I ever considered me “normal”?

Thought so.

Anyway, as I was carrying on the tradition two days ago I started to ponder the changes that have come over it. The first is physical—I actually don't read a “newspaper” any more, at least not the kind in print. Over the years, I've gone from Detroit Free Press in print to the Chicago Tribune in print to, now, the New York Times digitally. That's just the path down which technology has led over the decades.

And, if I must admit, it IS kind of nice not having newsprint ink smeared all over my fingers by the end of the morning.

The other way my habit has changed over the years has to do with the “snacks” I inhale while reading. For instance, two days ago while perusing the Times I had a mug or two of green tea and a piece of German chocolate. And that made me flash back to the “snacks” I had each and every week when starting this habit back in college.

Specifically, it made me flash back to the quart of chocolate milk and six big chocolate chip cookies that I'd go through on an average Sunday morning.

You know, sometimes I wonder how I've managed to stay pretty much the same weight since I was in college, considering that I would have the chocolate milk and cookies for breakfast and then, I dunno, Mountain Dew & Tootsie Rolls for dinner. Thankfully, it didn't kill me back then, and thankfully, I've learned that tea & chocolate is MUCH better for you, especially if you're just sitting around for an hour or two reading.

I guess that if I've changed the way I read a newspaper that it's probably good that I've also changed what I eat while doing so, as well. I'm pretty sure both my heart AND the bathroom scale thank me. After all, I've enjoyed this habit since I was in college.

And hopefully, with what I'm eating now while reading, I can continue to enjoy it for decades to come.

(jim@wmqt.com) 

Monday, 5/15

I hardly ever wear sports jerseys. But when I do, I apparently turn heads.

At least that was my experience Friday, when I wore a jersey from Paris St Germain, the French team that has the world's greatest player, Kylian M'Bappe (along with a few other guys and one big diva) on it. I'm not a fan of the team, although I AM in constant amazement of M'Bappe's skills (and the fact that his helped France win the World Cup a few years ago). But I am a fan of one of their warm-up jerseys, which is why I bought it last year.

Those of you who know my taste in colors may understand why I bought it--

I realize not everyone would wear a purple and neon pink sports jersey, but you know what? I'm not everyone, and if I'm going to wear a sports jersey, you'd better believe it would be one with colors like that.

I guess, though, that I didn't think of the reaction it would have on other people. Just on my walk to work Friday I had several women stare at me (in a good way, I hope) along with a guy in a wheelchair who said, and I'm quoting here, “that's quite the shirt”.

Why yes, it is. Although based on the way he said it I'm guessing we don't think that it's quite the shirt in quite the same way.

I mean, I know it's not a shirt for everyone. The colors are, uhm, colorful, and not everyone would be comfortable wearing it. And after the stares and the comment I started to realize that it does draw (even more) attention to me, something that I probably really don't need considering who I am and the fact that I seem to draw enough attention to myself as it is.

But I like the jersey. I have the skin tone to pull it off, and the colors make things “pop”. I guess, for some people, it makes them pop a little too much, but that's never bothered me before, so why should it start now?

Anyway, if you happen to see me wear it again in the future, feel free to stare. I mean, I'd prefer that your stare would just be because I'm wearing a sports jersey, but I realize that you'd probably be staring because of something else.

You know—because it's “quite the shirt”.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 5/12

I can't believe I couldn't find one anywhere.

First of all, thanks for allowing me to skip a day yesterday so I could take care of a little business. Now that I'm back, allow me to tell you a little story, one that actually started Monday night when I walked in to do my weekly TV gig. Ariane was putting together a collage of staff members and their mothers for Mothers Day, and wondered if I had a picture of me and my dear mom. I didn't on my phone, and told her I'd check when I got home that night, because I was sure I must have had one somewhere.

Well, guess what I didn't have?

Seriously; I have a ton of pictures of me & Loraine. I have almost as many pictures of me and my various nieces and nephews. I even have a bunch of pictures of me & my dad. But do you think I had even one picture of just me & my mom, at least one taken this century?

I think you know the answer to that.

Thankfully, my parents got back from Florida earlier this week. So just in time for Mothers Day, guess what I got?

It's like a Mother's Day gift, except it's from my mom, instead of for her. And you better believe it's now part of the station's collage for the weekend.

So for the picture, Mom, and for everything else you've done over lo these many decades, thanks a bunch. You are, by my estimation, the greatest mom in the history of moms. There's no question about that.

8-)

Have a great weekend, everyone. If you can, make sure you celebrate with YOUR mom!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 5/10

Maybe there's hope yet .

A mere eight days after we emerged, bloodied but unbowed, from our massive dump of early May snow, signs that Spring may finally be winning the battle are starting to emerge. How do I know that? I'm starting to see things popping out of the earth. And considering what we went through last week, that may qualify as a miracle in and of itself.

What have I been seeing the past day or so?

Well, this--

And this--

And this--

And this--

Now, I realize that this is just the start, that more flowers and more colors will soon (and, from the looks of it, quite soon) be joining us, but for now, with the snow from last week not even totally melted, it's a sign that maybe—just maybe—all will shortly be right in the world.

Don't believe me about the snow?

So I'm cautiously optimistic, which is waaaaay more optimistic than I was a week ago at this time. Oh, and one more sign of that optimism?

Those are probably still a couple of weeks away. But I get to start obsessing about them now.

And that's a good thing!

                                                        ******

By the by, I have to be in Baraga early tomorrow, so there won't be a new one of these.  I shall, however, be on the air, should you be so inclined, and I'll be back with one of these Friday!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 5/9

Maybe it wasn't the best song to sing along to in the grocery store. But, in my defense, maybe it wasn't the best song to play in a grocery store, either.

I was at a local grocery store Saturday, doing what all Americans do. Actually, I was doing two things all Americans do—shopping for food, and singing along with the music they were piping over the speakers. It was a good selection, too...mostly current hits with a few oldies stuck in here and there.

It fact, it sounded very much like this very radio station. So it's probably not a surprise I was singing along..

Even if the song was Jax's “Victoria's Secret”.

If you haven't heard the song yet, it's a cheery and very pointed little ditty about the prominent lingerie chain and the horrid effects it can have on the body image of women who don't look like their models (in other words, 99.9999999% of all women). It makes a fantastic point, all wrapped up in an earworm of a chorus that says, and I'm quoting directly here, “selling skin & bones & big boobs”, with the last word in that sentence stretched out over a gloriously long measure of music.

So I'm pretty sure you can guess which part I was singing out loud in the grocery store. Yup; sometimes, I amaze even myself. And usually not in a good way.

Of course, what makes it even better is what usually happens when I'm singing something rather embarrassing—someone walks by, hears me, and gives me one of those looks that vacillates between amusement and pity and horror. That's about the time I usually smile and then slink away; however, after it happened to me Saturday I kept passing the lady who gave me that look in each of the next three aisles

Thankfully, I finally lost her once I got to frozen foods.

So if I offended anyone at a local grocery store late Saturday morning, I do apologize. I was just singing along...even if it was to one of the last songs you think you'd hear while shopping.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Now, to allow YOU the chance to sing along...

 

Monday, 5/8

I can't believe I missed it!

First of all, I had a nice weekend, thanks for asking. The weather wasn't perfect, but I got to lounge around for a few days doing what I wanted to do and just what I wanted to do. That was the best part of it.

One of the things I didn't want to do, and therefore didn't do at all, was to check my work e-mail. So when I started going through it this morning I noticed I had missed a press release sent out late Friday night, and because I missed that press release I didn't have a chance to celebrate a holiday Saturday.

Yup. I missed World Naked Gardening Day.

I know; it's a tragedy of the highest order, isn't it? If only I'd checked my e-mail while I was off for my weekend. I could have skipped all the political releases, the event releases, and the press releases that I (for some reason) receive from a PR firm in Milan, Italy (all in Italian, natch). But if only I had sifted through all the garbage I would've been aware of what I could have done on Saturday.

Instead, I missed it. Now I'll have to wait another year to romp around my garden without any clothing on. But on the bright side, that now gives me a year (minus a few days) to actually get a garden.

The press release itself was a ranking of the 100 top metro areas in the US and now they ranked on everything from gardening to the weather on May 6^th to public ordinances on people walking around their gardens without any clothes on. If you're curious (and I know you are) Miami is best place in the country to garden naked, while of the 100 biggest places in the US Lincoln, Nebraska ranks last. It's kind of ironic, considering they grown nothing but corn in Nebraska.

I guess they just do it with their clothes on.

So learn from my mistake. If you have a calendar upon which you write dates for the future, remember to mark down Saturday, May 4th, 2024 when we can actually to remember to celebrate this momentous holiday.

After all, we don't want to miss another World Naked Gardening Day, do we? Especially seeing as how it'll fall on Star Wars Day, as well? I tell ya—it'll be a celebration unlike any seen in human history!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 5/5

It doesn't take much to make me happy. In fact, it only takes something like this--

It's been seven months since we returned from our trip to Germany, and we were starting to run out of all the goodies we brought back with us. And since we're not heading back there for the foreseeable future, we did the next best thing--

We brought Germany to us

There's a very cool online store—GermanShop24—that sells all this stuff (and lots more). I can't recommend them more highly; even though they're based in the US we placed the order last Tuesday and it arrived this Wednesday, which means that an entire basket worth of grocery stuff made its journey from a quarter of a planet away in slightly over a week.

Yes, we live in strange, weird, and occasionally dangerous times. But at least you can get a package from Germany in just eight days.

Most of what we ordered is just replacing stuff we usually get. However, if you look at the tea box sitting on top, that's something new. It's a sage-eucalyptus tea that I'm really looking forward to trying. The company that makes it (Messmer) used to make a sage-honey-vanilla concoction that may have been my favorite tea of all time. Unfortunately, like many things, it's no longer in production. But maybe this one will approach it in yumminess.

I guess I'll find out this weekend.

So there you go. Now you know what I'll be doing with part of my weekend. I hope yours is just a productive. And just as yummy!

(jim@wmqt.com) 

Thursday, 5/4

Happy Star Wars Day!

Wait. You say you don't celebrate Star Wars Day? You say you didn't even know it's Star Wars Day today?

What are you—normal??

8-)

For a subset of us—a subset that's small but probably bigger than you'd believe—today is Star Wars Day. Why, you ask? Well, I answer, today's May 4^th. And what's the greeting one Jedi gives to another? “May the Force be with you”. “May the Force”...May the 4^th? Get it?

Okay, I need help. But I'm not the only one. There are people out there—like I said, probably a lot more than you'd think—who will celebrate the day with all the gusto they can muster, dressing in costume, watching as many of the films as they can in a 24 hour period, or standing on the street corner, shouting out to the galaxy just how evil the Empire really is.

And you know what? There's nothing at all wrong with that.

Yesterday I had touched upon just how powerful a single piece of pop culture can be, but unlike Gordon Lightfoot's “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” the “Star Wars” universe has forty-plus years of growth behind it. Three generations now have soaked up the worlds and the characters that make up that universe, and are still eagerly awaiting the next chapters in the ever-growing saga. With that background it's probably no surprise that people celebrate today.

Maybe what's more surprising is that more people don't.

So if you come a cross someone today who says “Happy Star Wars Day” or “May the Force be with you”, don't assume they're a little off-kilter. Nope; they're just among the three generations (and counting) whose lives have been touched by a series of movies, books, and games.

And considering some of the, well, incredibly bizarre (if not outright dangerous) ideas that get passed around the world these days, is there really anything wrong with celebrating a little bit of our shared pop culture and its history?

May the Force be with you!

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—oh, just because you can never hear this piece of music too much...)

Wednesday, 5/3

It's amazing how one song can transcend time & space.

As I'm sure you've heard, Gordon Lightfoot died Monday night. While he was known for many songs (including my personal favorite, the number one “Sundown”), the song with which I'm sure he's most associated is “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”. While I'm not surprised it's insanely popular around these parts (named, among other things, as “Upper Michigan's Favorite Song of the Past 50 Years” by our astute listeners), in many of the articles I read on his passing “Fitzgerald” is the tune that's mentioned the most.

Go figure. A folk song about a ship sinking on Lake Superior transcends all else. But, I guess, that's the power of that one tune.

The New York Times actually had a great article about the song and how it shouldn't have been a hit. And they were absolutely right—in the middle of the seventies, when both rock and disco reigned supreme—a six minute folk song—a six minute historically accurate folk song, no less—hit number 2 on Billboard's Hot 100

Who knew?

I have to wonder about something else, too. Had the Fitz went down in 1975, and had not Lightfoot sung about it, would anyone outside of the Great Lakes even remember the sinking these days? But he did sing about it, making it perhaps the most famous shipwreck since that other big boat hit an iceberg and sunk in the north Atlantic back in 1912. In those six minutes, he immortalized not only the accident itself, but also thrust the memories of the 29 people who died into our pop culture consciousness forever.

Not many songs do that. But this one did.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 5/2

I'm just gonna say this about that, because I promised not to whine any more.  But because several of you asked, here's what it was like at 930 this morning--

And, like I said.  That's it.  Maybe if I just don't talk about it it'll go away.

That works, right?

8-)

Actually, I have one more picture to share.  To prove that this indeed HAS been a weird year, here's something I shot 7 years ago on this date—May 2nd 2016--

Now tell me this hasn't been a weird “ Spring”.  Go ahead. Tell me.  I dare ya.

*****

I feel like I should write a little more (especially something that's not complaining about the weather), so here 'tis--

Did you know my friends at TV-19 won a Michigan Association of Broadcasters award for best newscast (smaller market division)?  That's right—despite having produced shows for just over seven months now, they were given the award over stations both near and far that have been doing it a LOT longer than just those seven months.  And while I do play a (very) small part in the newscasts, all of the credit—all of it—goes to Sarah, Ariane, and the gang at the studio five nights a week.  It's not easy producing two half hour TV shows five days a week (trust me—I KNOW of what I speak) so for them to walk away with the award so quickly after launch says something amazing about each and every person who works there.

So way to go, gang!!!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 5/1

Okay, “Spring”, this is your last chance. The third month had better be a charm.

I know I've been complaining about our wacky weather in here a lot recently, and I promise not to do it much more (unless, of course, summer sucks, and then all bets are off). But when you've had a 2023 like we have no far—January and February abnormally warm and comparatively snow-free, and then “winter” coming in March and April...well, a little complaining is to be expected.

As well as a little trepidation as to what May will be like. And that trepidation may be warranted, with a winter storm warning through tomorrow and schools all closed today.

Don't believe me?  This was at 8:11 this morning, before the "heavy" stuff even started--

I know we've wrecked the planet. I know that all this is just Mother Nature trying to compensate for everything we've been throwing at her for 150 years. On a macro level, I understand it completely. But on a micro level?

It just sucks.

Being an optimist by nature, I'm hopeful that this is the month that rights everything, the month that some kind of equilibrium is restored to our local climate. But having developed a healthy sense of realism the past three years, I'm not totally convinced that restoration will take place. We'll see; hopefully, the optimistic part of me is correct, and by the end of the month I'll be writing about warmth and flowers popping out and days on the beach.

But if the realist in me is right...well, then let me apologize in advance for what you may be reading in the weeks and months to come.

Because I'm guessing it won't be pretty.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)